Wolfwork
Steve Hackett
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Clapperboards sandwich hordes scavengers in paradise
Training their eyes under grey porridge skies
Magistrates Ivory gates opiates potentates
Kings of carrion badness in the blood
Its all wolfwork
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Faxes from a wall of corpses
Gorging on each day in mourning
Father time squeezing the sun
For light relief they bare their teeth
And turn on their own
Rolling around on a fresh bed of nails
Come and see the show
Join in the ring
With your mouth open wide