Dawn of Man - Pop. 1280

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Through a slit in the screen

Seven nights a week

You’ve heard but not seen

Dessicated organs

Inside your wet robe

Mud caked pelts

And spears in lightning strobe

All the footprint fossils

Across dried out lakes

A pool of stale cracked jism

Down where curtain breaks

See a changing room

Off a fed back reel

Two sweaty faces

Behind the fifth seal

All lubed up

For a night of pain

You’re out of sight

You’re out of mind