Or man is a metaphor for the machine
Aren't both about the mettle and the sheen
But with the plants we don’t have much
In common anymore or yet
We plant the seeds but must sit and wait
And the animals who are they really
Such specialized faces of ourselves
They make us feel ashamed
We still don’t know how
We’re all woven together
Each stone in its place
And yet no matter how much the gods
Toil and sweat over our cradles
We still want to live in this world
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