If it were within,

within our power

beyond the reach

of slavish pride,

to no-longer

harbour grievances

behind the mask's

opportunists facade,



we could welcome responsibility

like a long lost friend

and re-establish laughter

in the doll's house once again.



For time has imprisoned us

in the order of our years

in the discipline of our ways

and in the passing of momentary stillness



You can see our chaos in motion

our chaos in motion

We can view our chaos in motion

view our chaos in motion...



(INSERT SAYS THE FOLLOWING LINES //SHOULD// END THIS SONG)



...and the subsequent collisions of fools

well-versed in the subtle art of slavery