He appears without sadness in the heart of darkness.
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Skull and bones, white and black,
'I'll carry you on my back.'
A sword in the right hand, bread in the left hand.
He dances in the sand.
Needles and pins in every limb, you walk to him.
Feeling numb, to the beat of a drum,
You almost succumb.
But at every turn, every stomach churn,
You know, you'll have the chance to learn.
The final temptation, the scourge of every nation!
Quivering, unkneeling, standing tall
You watch the dust cloud fall.
Now the prints are yours! No rota chores!
Your spirit soars!