Hunt For Truth

People are held together by the threat of force.

I look out of the window, see the passin’ shops.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, is like a magic box.

Hamlet says: “I cannot.” And: “My wit’s diseased.”

And she said: “See you.” Wanted to be at ease.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, is no low-key peace.

I like girls and know how to talk to them.

I’m not gettin’ nervous when seduced by them.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, has an open end.

I like to wave my arms gettin’ down with the beat.

I like a woman’s love that is without fear.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, is adventure and is sweet.

We had wine and we had bread before we all left.

It’s all a larger part of a world bereft of unhappy thoughts and things you shouldn’t get.

Gamma radiation won’t escape the Hunt for Truth.

Nor any isolation in crazy world-taboos.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, is always inside you.

People are held together by the threat of force.

I look out of the window, see the living corpse.

The Hunt for Truth, you know, reaches out beyond all hopes.

                                                                                                      ~Micheal Montecrossa

                                                                                                        Gauting, Germany 

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