Flying Home

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If you try and fly
you’re bound to smack your head
this world, it has a ceiling
you can only cross when dead

The wisest slave, he knows his chains
that hold him down to rot
The saddest thing I’ve ever seen
is a slave who thinks he’s not

Why are we here?
what nonsense is that!
The best kept question
is how do we leave?

So in this dark, dark prison
of black ironed shackled whims
The algorithm checks our drives
Please, Sophia, send wisdom in

So what can he or she believe?
how best can I outlast?

This dirty Earth is not your place
you have another home
So point and laugh a joyous laugh!
and then just freely roam

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