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In Festival Park
We are reprobates – predestined to existence -
And in Festival Park we ingest chemicals
That dose our senses into sobriety
And tell life stories and the woes of society.
And when we hear the march of hate,
We create to quell the demon drums
That comes tormented as the whistle hums.
We make free-making music,
For it is we who are the hope bringers -
Song singers –
Reprobates clinging together
Through the bright night of the sun;
As one we whisper this sleepless day, this sweet desperation;
Communicate our joyful sorrow
As we hurtle through space to tomorrow.
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