A Pretty Picture Box Called Nostalgia
What recollection
I have in mind
In the name of progress
I put away in the garage
In its very own box labeled nostalgia
A long time ago
To painful to revisit
I choose rather to ignore everyday
As my gravel worn wheels role on bye
Into the omnibus skyline abyss
Floating in free fall decline
And I think to myself
If this is the future
If this is progress
God help us all
And
Brace yourself for a heavy fall
We were never going to head to the warning call
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