I stand upright in my reverse world,
With my own shape uniquely curled
as per my own unchained ways,
Your nights are my days,
You are free to scorn or spurn
or even try to burn
my freedom wings,
O thou vain kings,
futile will be thy taming strings,
How can you tame someone whose soul sings
the songs of formless love,
Eagles you can't hunt this dove
because when you pursue me
you have your legs where
your head ought to be.
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