DULCE ET DECORUM EST
Well, Hell, we can argue, who
knows what. You can die for
your cause as I can die for mine.
It's the grafted middle that counts:
All those silent assumptions and
passable lies. We fiddle while
this Rome burns.
-
Long ago they put a fenceline up;
between farms, farmer's wives,
wayward kids, and mixed-breed
felons. We only keep out what
we don't want in.
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