Mygeeto

There are no more secrets to tell, that the bombs didn’t say,
on the day they swept away, what remained of the liberty bell
and in Mygeeto, the angels sing, for the darkness, and the light it brings
and no more will men weep, on their knees, in the cold and cracking streets
no more will they die, no more will they need
hand in hand, brother and sister, together for eternity
and we will stretch up and into oblivion
much longer than this earth, and it’s short lived historians
no paths are written, and no plans are given.