Behind The Wall is a land unknown, It's watchers peer, how green-eyed they are. Through the cracks and dentures hides a passage of culture that has not yet been foretold: Flashes of blue, the nature of our neptune, Glimpses of red, the absorption of our atoms, Glistens of white, the purity of our souls. But a painted facade of tea dunks and beer brunch Covers the cracks of a patriotic Britain, Where the hateful vengeance and ignorance thrives off impure bloodlines and narratives of despair: Screams of suffering, can they not hear? Complies on capacity, formed by communities of hostility, Let the green-eyed watchers slide their backs down The Wall.
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