Two safe spoons and far away
Beneath the knives of other days
A caravan was set to blaze
And drift upon the evening haze.
Cliffs were conquered
and reds were gassed
lives were pondered
And dates were passed.
Up to crosses out of reach
Arcade lights with racing beach
Jack in box denied us each
And one of us was called a leech.
The end has come and all is soft
And spiders that once hung aloft
Have fallen with the evening tide
As we await tomorrow's ride.
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