I like to do a song that I pick up from an Australian poet in Relo近. Then I took one of his poems called Poverty. I made some music on it. The overhead, the gliding poverty, the toll and pinging ballroom, and before ever haunted by the spectrum of tomorrow. It always breaks the strong heart of man, a crush out of spirit. Do what he will, do what he can, however high is his merit. I hate the praise that warned us God for preacher and for pope. The kind of those who know not the blind, the man who know it. You're the greatest curse and smell as bird and everlasting terror. Of course, I have to cry my nerd to cause of heavy youth. I hate his grinding poverty, the toll and pinging ballroom. I'll be forever haunted by the spectrum of tomorrow. It breaks the strong heart of man and a crush out of spirit. Do what he will, do what he can, however high is his merit.