He wields his flute with an expert hand
And then, all too soon
The dancing stops and the children stand
The piper calls the tune.
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He holds their future in his palm
An old and powerful man
With missiles poised and bombs at hand
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They wait for his command.
With songs of fear and bigotry
A cruel, hypnotic sound
He plays his last tune greedily
And strikes the children down.
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