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Then you know you must leave the capitol
I laughed at the great God Pan
I didnae, I didnae
I laughed at the great god Pan
I didnae, I didnae, I didnae, I didnae
LEAVE THE CAPTIOL
EXIT THE ROMAN SHELL
Then you know you must leave the capitol
Pan resides in welsh green masquerades
On welsh cat caravans
But the monty
Hides in curtains
Grey blackish cream
All the paintings you recall
All the side stepped cars
All the brutish laughs
From the flat and the wild dog downstairs

The Fall/Mark E. Smith, “Leave the Capitol” [!! – Ed.]

To descry a world —
And see what it might needs contain —
That is a task
Befitting all one’s days.


Ernie Kovacs/Edie Adams, “Food”