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Cyclops 316
Old hardworking luck swindles in kind passage
The test of witness, we are stuck in our peace
Passed, we poor, we luckless
In giving and letting, we go
To cry in the name of some second-hand reason
And yet, when we went to the wall
In malice and without sufficient reason
We found ourselves covered in paper and eyes
Some ancient Moses telling us to drink and take an alias
Our wife bidding us farewell from the dock
Looking out- in trying to unstick us from
Scandalous opinion and in some green fraternity
We walk out to the weeping country
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