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  • Artist Info: <br />
    <br />
    Mistah Kurtz—he dead.<br />
    <br />
    A penny for the Old Guy<br />
    <br />
    I<br />
    <br />
    We are the hollow men<br />
    We are the stuffed men<br />
    Leaning together<br />
    Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!<br />
    Our dried voices, when<br />
    We whisper together<br />
    Are quiet and meaningless<br />
    As wind in dry grass<br />
    Or rats’ feet over broken glass<br />
    In our dry cellar<br />
    <br />
    Shape without form, shade without colour,<br />
    Paralysed force, gesture without motion;<br />
    <br />
    Those who have crossed<br />
    With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom<br />
    Remember us—if at all—not as lost<br />
    Violent souls, but only<br />
    As the hollow men<br />
    The stuffed men.<br />
    <br />
    II<br />
    <br />
    Eyes I dare not meet in dreams<br />
    In death’s dream kingdom<br />
    These do not appear:<br />
    There, the eyes are<br />
    Sunlight on a broken column<br />
    There, is a tree swinging<br />
    And voices are<br />
    In the wind’s singing<br />
    More distant and more solemn<br />
    Than a fading star.<br />
    <br />
    Let me be no nearer<br />
    In death’s dream kingdom<br />
    Let me also wear<br />
    Such deliberate disguises<br />
    Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves<br />
    In a field<br />
    Behaving as the wind behaves<br />
    No nearer—<br />
    <br />
    Not that final meeting<br />
    In the twilight kingdom<br />
    <br />
    III<br />
    <br />
    This is the dead land<br />
    This is cactus land<br />
    Here the stone images<br />
    Are raised, here they receive<br />
    The supplication of a dead man’s hand<br />
    Under the twinkle of a fading star.<br />
    <br />
    Is it like this<br />
    In death’s other kingdom<br />
    Waking alone<br />
    At the hour when we are<br />
    Trembling with tenderness<br />
    Lips that would kiss<br />
    Form prayers to broken stone.<br />
    <br />
    IV<br />
    <br />
    The eyes are not here<br />
    There are no eyes here<br />
    In this valley of dying stars<br />
    In this hollow valley<br />
    This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms<br />
    <br />
    In this last of meeting places<br />
    We grope together<br />
    And avoid speech<br />
    Gathered on this beach of the tumid river<br />
    <br />
    Sightless, unless<br />
    The eyes reappear<br />
    As the perpetual star<br />
    Multifoliate rose<br />
    Of death’s twilight kingdom<br />
    The hope only<br />
    Of empty men.<br />
    <br />
    V<br />
    <br />
    Here we go round the prickly pear<br />
    Prickly pear prickly pear<br />
    Here we go round the prickly pear<br />
    At five o’clock in the morning.<br />
    <br />
    Between the idea<br />
    And the reality<br />
    Between the motion<br />
    And the act<br />
    Falls the Shadow<br />
    For Thine is the Kingdom<br />
    <br />
    Between the conception<br />
    And the creation<br />
    Between the emotion<br />
    And the response<br />
    Falls the Shadow<br />
    Life is very long<br />
    <br />
    Between the desire<br />
    And the spasm<br />
    Between the potency<br />
    And the existence<br />
    Between the essence<br />
    And the descent<br />
    Falls the Shadow<br />
    For Thine is the Kingdom<br />
    <br />
    For Thine is<br />
    Life is<br />
    For Thine is the<br />
    <br />
    This is the way the world ends<br />
    This is the way the world ends<br />
    This is the way the world ends<br />
    Not with a bang but a whimper.<br />
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