There sits the City Gold
Where robbers ne'er grab hold,
Nor rot, nor moth, nor mold.
There sits a lava moat
Not passable by boat
Nor rope, nor writ, nor hope.
Outside the people scheme
As wise as any seem,
To enter, distant dream.
And there the doctors sly,
Sell passage to passers by.
Yet all who purchase, die.
This city, see, is truth.
Those lofty minds in...
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