'All day, all night, I occupy my lover’s head!’
And bodies beds, the world’s charade,
Now stretch to think just what she said
But surface words were just a pass
To sacred instance lover’s grasp
And this is when time melts away
And rhetoric was always play.
I ask ‘What have we fought here for?’
A thousand answers clog the air
The primal one screams out, 'Class War!'
But somewhere in my mind’s recall
There’s something deeper than it al.
When freedom comes to pass at last
Take me back to that sacred grasp.
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