One, two, etc.

No scrawling is permitted
Be aware of this crucial point
No basking in the out of control sun
A line is what you must become

You can make as if you still could sit down
Let yourself run your course
Just know that it'll remain an illusion
You may ask not to pulse the drumming background
But only for today

The space between Summer brigades
Still allows an instant of overindulgence
To morrow will start the infantry rehearsal
Each pensive existence will have to clap two heels
On the asphalt's nonnegotiable  dictatorship

You'll go down. Then you'll turn
But the line you'll follow is a straight one
The rightness is the melody of your rhythmic indoctrination
Sweating squads surrounding the possibility of circles
With their list of corporal punishments

Think that once you'll start, nothing will stop you
It's seriously frightening
But the city falls into the sea
And just before the gap are many colored crowds who dance
All night long.