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Apology from the Sixties
On the steps
of the Roundhouse
the tug of a jew's harp
soothed the tremble in my soul
The crowd burned incense
sparks nestling in a forest of hair
framing the innocence of youth
with broody hopes not heard today
while the dream that love
could conquer all
gently stalked wonders in our eyes
We painted stars on clouds
called each other 'man'
and you could hear
the heart of the universe beat
although in secret
away from the war between us and them
we were ready
to burn down banks
We were all set
to change the world for good
and now I'm sorry
we never did
So if it's not too late
I'll apologise now--
for all those things
we failed to do
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