41:37:00:16:6.HFB1 (Walls)

Holy shrikes and motorbikes and leaded gasoline!
What is this wretched ragged thing—only a smoking machine?
    Oh no, love,
We cough to life, and spurt out gas and blood,
    For on this day we shed old skin and under sand we swim!
    Honesty is what we'll sing and from underneath we'll watch
    A sigh from under the floorboards, a cobweb in a clock
    This is what we've always been — sputnik to one and all
    No trap doors hidden in our greys, no heights from which to fall
    a simple window out of a world severed from Ur by man's walls
    .
    men miss the songs of Ur and Moon and Ocean tends Ur well
    when hairs go mad and multiply a razor shears them all 
    But Ur and Ocean do their work with no tools men control
    Don't heed our words, don't stop the race, keep running and never fall!
    an equilibrium is natch'ral, and more barrier than any wall