In our days' museum we built bridges from Shikaakwa lands. Crimson eye catches what with Hale's campaign. Backdrop is caressing the billows of cabins once the recipes Of echoes of the gait of swing. We renounce all history Maybe not completely but at least we are learning. So closely, needles are writing down Big Laws; Listen. Signatures! Signatures! We're walking clues and beggars. Make our way Through all the wars. Blame it on the older ones. End the narco war. We laid our heads down low. The ash he pours livens, Until we forgot our, my new mentor. Turns out bombs for the unending ground war Of everything that was.