Everyday I see a new theory, but they always catch fire, unless one is strong enough to sing in a choir,
I see me set on fire, now I have to extinguish myself & I will get a new attire,
which will cause you to misfire, and events will transpire,
now you will have to stop to conspire, because you make me enquire, now my theory has been bought by a buyer, which is Orb the supplier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem