Man builds the minaret of civilisation
Look it scrapes the sky
My good old sky! Make room a bit yet
So that it can sour still
...
The water world stripped the sky of its bright flag
And noisily emerged a flock of bats out of hell
On the coast the foxes prepared their hunting gears
They aimed for the same for sure
...
A Pile Of Ruins
Man builds the minaret of civilisation
Look it scrapes the sky
My good old sky! Make room a bit yet
So that it can sour still
But I am an evergreen pile of ruins:
I devour all.