While the living word decays
In a graveyard of cliches
Haunted by a glorious past
While the same five books
Are thrown into the same five fires
Refusing to be read at last
While our bodies and our souls
Still recognize themselves
In a few consonants and vowels
While we're still posing here
Taking pictures of ourselves
Let me adore you once more
Let me sing your genius again
Or what was living for
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