Elegiac thoughts streaming into my soul
Sad songs that make one cry
Of what use is the elegies of the dead past
Sad songs that make me cry.
Like the malodorous stink of a skunk
My soul needs a bactericidal touch
Like a clogged and dirty swamp
My skunked soul requires germicidal cleansing.
The innocent must not read my thoughts
The erudite I must avoid
The Holy I have betrayed
Babeldom seeks to rule my life.
I will seek He who is higher than I
Lest I act on the sad and become bad
Reverbnation of sad songs must be halted
Lest a requiem be composed for the living.
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