song for a frieze - ostraca lyrics
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whether i like it or not
everything outside is decoration
and though i can understand
the value of another
all the great collective tragedies
or what we make of history
is a series of friezes
no souls in the figures
scenery in the distance
even if painted with blood
so, a thousand people
turn to red paint
in your pocket, all the time
going by like garbage in the river
see them go
it’s all exhausting
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