Every year
We drift further away
From Aladin Sane
Who was topped
By something as prosaic
As infinitely repeating cells
And now we face down
A virus that is going
to take us to hell,
The end of the world as we know it
Check your circuits,
there's something wrong
Wash your hands
And don’t touch your face
We’ve come this far
There’s no going back.
No comments:
Post a Comment