| | Brothers! Have you seen The specter prowling our land?
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| | In this century, this Nuclear Age, To talk of specters seems absurd But it's the truththe terrible and tragic truth! This specter, like a gust of wind, like a wisp of smoke, Prowls unencumbered o'er our land; Trails like a shadow, Clutches with invisible claws, Silently sucks blood and marrow, Dictates every action, controls every thought; Tramples on dignity, Destroys the quest for beauty, the yearning for love. The slightest hint And you are locked away for years in some dark and gloomy prison-cell! This specter decrees death, posthumous humiliation, Or tolerates a life of vexatious vegetation. You are, then, spectral slave and spectral subject, Without the right to cry out in protest.
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| | Brothers! Have you seen The specter prowling our land?
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| | You may not recognize him, though he stands before your eyes, For like a conjurer, master of never-ending transformation, One moment in dragon-robe of gold brocade He clasps the dragon-headed scepter, The next in courtier's gown He swaggers through the palace halls; And nowbeholda fresh veneer! The latest fashion! And yet No mask, no costume, no disguise Can hide the coiled dragon branded on his naked rump.
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