Windmill Dancer


Oh, windmill dancer,

Beat your saintly song on wooden wings,

Burdening children with murderous things,

Teaching them lies and the advents of cancer.

Oh, windmill dancer,

With that sunlit clocktower you stand at odds.

That pike in the sky built by the gods,

You beg us destroy it, but we offer no answer,

Oh, windmill dancer.

The End

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