“Break ground, buckle down / It's time…”
Time runs out.
“…Let's move from this underground / Shed some of this blacklight to surrounding towns…”
Go forth and shine.
“…How much responsibility do you bear / For the ill…”
Across state lines.
“…Line up, state your name, state your claims, claim your stakes…”
Get while the giving’s good.
“…Look ahead now / Oh, let the countdown usher / The philanthropic mimes…”
Nothing left to say.
“…And scrape the paint that hides the crimes / Of a silent kind…”
Let everything go.
“…Is the position that you hold one that could parallel / A synergistically greater plan? / Or would it force us all to be packed…”
The hourglass empties.
“…In a sloping, quickly given golden sand…”