are dining in your yards We tied this up With a bow The science of rock and roll To bleed a dream with a stolen chance The art of life is a fleeting glance
in his likeness Hoping and praying that one-day In the lab they might just Stumble on some kind of way To create human beings So far Human kind is the
die, and my face will fade Into the dark, floating away. Someday I'll see you in the dark. 11.3 A rose, a rose, a thorn: A briar patch. With blossoms
