In the mornings now
Like a rocket pun intended
And out pop umbrellas
Among the few wise people
Who know the sun is out to get us
The governments and the churches
Who have taken shelter in the shadows
Under rocks and plants
Geometrically rearranged
To exclude the broken-hearted
The wise man goes for groceries
And the wise woman shops around
They’ve seen what heat can claim
But keep the desert blooming
In their heart of hearts
Each one under his flame
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