No more Iraqs,
No more Somalias,
No more Vietnams,
The beat goes on, the beat goes on,
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain,
La de da de de, la de da de da...
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"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning – So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back endlessly into the past."