In the childhood pictures we brought over
From the old countries of the mind
He carries the chains in one hand
From which he freed himself
And in the other a flaming sword
Brandished above a dragon's head
We saw him as a picture of our plight
And dressed ourselves as soldier-angels
And roared through our monster teeth
And led the dragon on a leash
Or fell dead on the bloody ground
We knew we were just playing around
Until he brushed us with his wings
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