I hear the Black Goat of a Thousand Young speak of old Old Ones long dead,
She whispers, in eons-forgotten tongue from a book best left unread,
The ignorant bliss, all but madness, will change for the knowledge that's all but sane,
and never, oh never that dream shall end 'til the stars are right again.
(tune: "I Hear The Soft Note", Sir Arthur
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