Echo, you privilege soul

Stand by as I pillage your home

Watch as they rave your condemnation

We have yet to live.


Castaway your gaze

Looking towards the sea

And behold the real me.


Gape into the looking glass

And you will see

We are the same


My fortune has not yet been read.

But soon time will tell

We are one of a kind


Blind to their eyes but clear to you as day.

As sneaky as a fox to a woodland gray.

Come dearly, stoop my way

Your head bowed in shame and fear


Begotten by all your sorrows

Forgotten is who the last hero was

And No one ever knows his name


On this day your soul and spirit

Is stained and soiled

Right down to your rickety, chilly bones

By the heart-broken yonder

You are the ugly Grinch in all of the timeworn story tales


Your soil is as greasily oiled with agony inducing pity

No, time has passed over your veins

Your helplessness has eaten into your consciousness

Oh, PepPlum

When will this reign of freight end?

I guess we shall stand in the rain until then


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