Another stripe painted across our backs
One more day hearing of souls we lack
The strain of a past we never wanted to know
Thought we could have a future as pure as snow
But you know what they say about old dogs and tricks
Try to teach them about the future but it never sticks
When dragged through time chains tend to rust
When muscles start to grow, links start to bust
So they try to bind the hands of time
With ropes made of diamonds and dimes
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When muscles start to grow, links start to bust… very impressive writing!!