The Fresh Prints of Bill Ayers

Coming through the fog, coming through the walls: coming for it.
Coming through the haze, coming through the shades: coming for it.
Coming from the past- Hark and Listen to the Humming!
Coming back at last- Listen through the Door in the Floor!
Coming from the past, coming back at last: coming for it.
Coming from the cave, coming from the grave: coming for it.
«…And I received a deleted memory of you and me,
on the run of a team of Sickening Police forever.
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?
We used to have such fun together, do you remember?»
I will paint my stories on the Gates of Light,
warning of my rain, my pouring on parades, my storming…
I will paint, I’ll paint.
We’ll have us hell of an adventure, through the folds, through the Black Hole
Epicenters
We know magic: we’re coming for it.
We pick pockets.
We’re coming for it.