I guess you're done.
You're doomed.
You can stop licking your wounds.
You're just recycled ash. You're just going back.
But the strong will survive!
The poets will cry, but not I.
Not I.
The planets move, and all is right!
Draw the giant's outline in chalk
Next to the bloody slingshot's rock,
And we'll bury him along with your statistics.
And the weak will comply,
Leak, and resign with still eyes.
Still eyes.
The planets move, and so do I!