Wet Gold - The Octopus Project

We have no choice but to destroy, Every note

And every prototype and every page

With every pen related to, To our words

Though it will surely cost us all

— All our thoughts, Though it would only say we’re sorry…

All evidence was sent to torch — By our pain

And that seemed like a bit of sky that night

Most of us saw the springtime stars, By the lot

And afterwards we had to tell — Tell ourselves

That certain plans have secret endings…

We fleeted back to listening.

See reason;

We have created this expensive mess

The laughing voice was deafening — Who could know?

Well there’s our letter send it now

What wonders?

What will we have then to remember?