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Accident or intention It's already history Random or intelligent The mute march into victory Innocent or innocent enough to say "I did what I did, I did what I did only"
Render unto Caesar
Scrawled and all illegible You kept yourself hidden well Sprawling and inflexible The world asked you for nothing else So and forward, lifelong in the gentle breeze Moral as a leaf, to fall and to decease, you
Render unto Caesar
("When should we bust into harmony?") Where the grayscale conjurers (flip it) Where the lifelike perjurers (write it) Where the vested spectators (watch it) Where the weapon chancellor (gun it) Where the twilight mandolin (play it) Where the high custodian (mop it) Where the panic violent (panic) Where the crabby handmaiden is (scrub it)
Down the line, down the mercenary barbary Down the line, dead the martyrs' morbid poetry ("What are we singing?") ("Uh, that doesn't make any sense what you just said. Hey, can you—") Down the rampart, the vandals given to defeat And down the landscape The lineman plastered for a, for a, for a week
