The winter means nothing to those who keep moving,
The shadows keep plucking, the warm winds are soothing,
Each and every day we move farther away from the Overflow.
The trees made of sugar they break under pressure,
While children tame cougars they ride with great pleasure.
We raise up our closed fists, but we'll never notice
The overflow.
It's over, the overflow.
It's growing in size, but we'll never notice it's gone.
The fires are swarming, the faithful are bleeding,
The soldiers are storming, the ignorant are leading.
All else has failed, so they ride on the tail of the overflow.
Monotonous speakers go off on their tangents,
While cave-men fight creatures, who knows where their minds went.
Blood and oil spill, but our glasses will fill till they Overflow.
Fear has risen from it's prison,
The illusion has been cast if we don't act fast we are gone.
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