[R. Hubert, R. Hubert]
I belong to those from somewhere
nowhere, everywhere
We constructed your race
for a special task
At last you failed
You'll be wiped out
Without a warning he appeared
in between all of these grey hired old men
We called them the world presidents
They ask him for just ten more years
and so he granted it
Freedom peace and all the
things we'd wished before
were no longer visions
They had all come true
On the tenth year
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