we are here
we are here
and we are now
pick up trouble and speak
of summits
to pass to keep
prevent hurt
riot protest and die by belief
closure is a four letter word spelled
n
e
v
a
cause we are the
blessed middle class and broken backs are a gift from above
though from the eternal watchers i doubt
more like penthouse clout
letting the change trickle down
pennies in our cup
jangle it around -- here the patriotic sound
like heavens bells armed with the smell of fed up
and you wanna see tough enough?
hear us speak
hear us speak
hear us speak
on a never ending seek turn around beat
drop down ground
grinding out the sound of weekly days paydays seldom bring a raise
in spirit a rise in time
unequivocal resistance
meet me at the door
for word war
about too much forefathers with their skin hanging loose
and their belt buckles already undone
shun--
mothers! reach out with your self entirely- palms up raised
your fists ready to praise the first disrespect showing an ugly face
hit the dial and call 4357 a coded number
to speak to sisters
to live by sisters
in code
to die by a code of
credence
probability and self response-ability
to discern truth from fact
don't give a shit?!
motherfucker you are jacked--
tacked against a wall
tanned hide burned sides waiting for vultures
a miss guided culture---
too busy with picket line pro-life
just to give a young woman even more strife--
this tide all bent over for capital praise buy more to save
when nuclear warheads can wipe us out in less than a day
so you tell me jack--
who you gonna trust to hold your hand?
when times get rough cut told to shut up
those with a lord above to guide this war
or those with sense given by a goddesses grace
that set a path of peace to taste?
you tell me -- jack--
coast to coast -- liven in a country going to the sac--
a hundred trillion billion gazillion dollars to bail us back--
is it a goal?
do we really want to go?
a countries shame wearing nice ties and a suit
a yacht with a set of crystals-- uneducated children with pistols
foreign policy--the berlin wall set down in texas
drug cartels with high-as-a-kite americans parading around
shaking their fingers at the nasty gun wars--
where's the man in the phone booth?
collecting kick backs somewhere i suppose
no-
you ought to know jack--
not to go back
No comments:
Post a Comment