Checking the neighborhood
Like a lost wheelbarrow
Like a van on a slope with it´s breaks off
Harvest the night my will on fire
Door to door trying to lose the counsel man
Invisible creatures tolerate us
Door to door like face to face
people looking out of their Windows
The wheat of the night
Harvested by me to make bread of the heart
eaten by day heartily
each house a new field to see and reap
Counsel man still by my side
complaining of the invisible creatures
Silence while I´m holding the scythe
let them flee like field adders
Be not insistant of their danger
For protest screeches from the cane to the cot
So I´ll roll the dough you get the oven hot
This glorious night will see a fair yield got
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