We build empires every night
That last a few thousand
Seconds.
Tight, black skyscrapers
And landscapes of
Beige-colored, imperfection strangling soil
Buy us organically-shaped
Pieces of the world
Where we can bathe in our own glory.
Newborn countries
With resources still untapped
Assemble tiptoeing armies
Who will grow into fat and lazy
Countrymen,
Living in the golden age of bronzer.
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