Clawing adornment for his crimes
Once he spread the rain
Had made some garlands for his feet
So silly, silly
Then on coins his face was mirrored
Until the lily poet of our times
Don't perceive his empty plea
So they dreamt in vain
To a little alcove
Love became the in theme then
Now I am silly
What's left is satin cool
His nourishment extract from his subjects
Opposing fakers thrice by ten
Take in view his empty stool
So they sent him far away
They saw they had to draw the line
He's a God in an alcove
He's a God in an alcove
Horizoned on the line
That redundant effigy
Take a look, it soon hath slithered
Now I am silly
Renunciation clad
He's a God, a God
That mass production profile
Silly, silly, silly, silly
To a little alcove all alone
To a fractured marble slab
Once he spread the wheat
So they sent him far away
