In this Cave lies a dark, disturbed, fly-blown husk
the result of a sale, of the soul
to one whom he wishes does not exist, yet weakly bows down to.
Sacrifices made, he knelt on the Pew
scrawled out the Ledger, lazy boys rolled
We’re led, lied, to believe it’s art
but an expensive suit fools no-one
A turd dipped in glitter
is still a piece of shit
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