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The Great Imagination
Sick of blank expressions
Mindless ego yuppies
You haven’t got the message
Cry for them, Gregor
Show them what they’re missing
Tell them how it can be
When you’re starving for attention
Run phony run
No use trying to hide it
Cause we can smell the stink
Of a mind that’s rotten and weak
Lay down all your weapons
The battle cry of Janus
There’s got to be a medium
Plead with them, Gregor
Help them see the difference
Between life as a lonely beetle
And the beauty of expression
I hope you got the message
Let the phonies run
Blind, dumb and naked
They’ll never see the joys
Of the great imagination