The Octopus Project
Wet Gold
We have no choice but to destroy, Every note
And every prototype and every page
With every pen related to, To our words
Though it will surely cost us all
- All our thoughts, Though it would only say we're sorry...
All evidence was sent to torch - By our pain
And that seemed like a bit of sky that night
Most of us saw the springtime stars, By the lot
And afterwards we had to tell - Tell ourselves
That certain plans have secret endings...
We fleeted back to listening. See reason;
We have created this expensive mess
The laughing voice was deafening - Who could know?
Well there's our letter send it now
What wonders?
What will we have then to remember?