The losers plot
Finding ways to get in
The back door seems inviting
Religion suddenly disappears
The black crows will fly
Gathering in doves on a tree
Cawing hard and flipping wings
The echo floating in the air
The black crows still at it
They will fly when the hunters arrive
Now they are still hanging on a tree
Some hunters have been turned like them
The losers on the ground
Planning their speeches on RR
Hoping to create a storm of black crows
Paint the castle black
But the hunters are probing
Waiting for the time to catch them in
The few leaders of the losers
It is best they face the law
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