- cifra
We went without wine
For we had no more gold
Woe are we for trying
To pretend we ever said no
And the template of acceptance
Standing on the message
For those of us wanting access
We must reconfigure the upkeep
Whether fraud, fake, or the real thing
Depends how high the siren sings
Everything about this hour
Led us to believe that we were safe
It read like a book with us in control
Come to find out we have no will at all
This is where we've landed
Marooned between two actions
Our movements all disjointed
And our passiveness is out of practice
But soon the brain will conjure up
A way to make it appear
As if we hold higher standards
Than the ones to which we adhere
We went without wine
For we had no more gold
For we had no more gold
