Draped Clocks

A dry, barren land
Everything is dead
Everywhere is sand
And a solumn, disfigured head

There's bugs
There's sticks
And oddly shaped bricks

There's gold and silver clocks
Draped over like socks

When psychadelics meet art
It's a wonderful start

To embracing our minds
To releasing our binds

To discovering new thoughts
Salvador Dali, the first of many psychonauts

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