The Year of the Tyger Timothy Spath
We are prophets you and I
Amongst the sand we draw
Scattering our thoughts
Stone, broken down
With our names once carved deep
We can reach the end of the earth with our names
They will bow before us
Before this is over
They will be in our palms
Sinking through each of our fingers
Crushed into this desert
With our names
We will surprise them
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