Much will be wiped away
The rest will be all altered
He said it
Mona Lisa eyed
The only sign of faulter
Your home and chattels
Now belong to us
And of course
Your kinder too
You need our codes
To eat and breath
So what you gonna do?
He didn't say that last part
Though he really wanted to
Pushing forward
To perceived perfection
A techno-Buddhist
Stew.