First Verse - Truth
Second Verse - Soule'
Third and Fourth Verse - Stock
The rally cry flies about the field
in some synchronized form.
The land war torn,
ripped to shred by our vengeful fangs.
The venom depleting life from the soul.
Holy evacuation,
an emancipator march
takes place on the tattered streets.
The nation heart slows
as tension rocks it weak spots
emotions defenseless,
The bombs raining down.
A death shower.
The rally cry, nullified.
Oh how they barely fear us.
The strength once knew
seems torn asunder
our paraplegic country lies limp, lifeless
surrounded by the dust of carnage
The mourning voice fill the hours of twilight
Our intentions hung
by the boulders that trampled us
But in the midst of the storm
Brimstone held no candle
To our elite
Fighting back, taking every inch
The poor bastards would give
The unconquerable spirit
the admirable resilience
The stubbornness, the bravery
The potion legends are made of
It all was unleashed
Shining high over the whirlwind clouds
Saviors
Rescuing us from this musty prison
We Americans were saved
by hell bent freedom fighters
A Story for you...
This morning felt abnormal,
I dressed formal than went through glass.
Picked window from my ass & left a trail,
which led to jail, what a damn coincidence!
"Hey America! I have a dream, who's listenin'?"
I look around and feel sick to my stomach,
so I'll jump into a group of business men.
On this bus ride to wherever it may end,
I get off at a friend's, where he lays dead.
They said it was self-defense,
they even have a witness standing there.
But he's scared, you can see that sparkle
that burns a dark hole within his lying eyes.
Later, doctors found cyanide in his system,
guess that's the fault in America's system.
My journey continues towards the Cafe,
usually - my bad day's fixed with a latte.
"Sir, would you like your coffee black?"
No, in fact I just so happen to like it gray!
I can't even look in the face of a mirror,
without seeing a clear example of rejection.
Yes, I'm referring to my reflection, it's true.
That the American truth is hidden in stock.
Send them back he said,
because there isn’t no black in the
American Flag;
Pinching our jobs and taking our homes,
they’re the problem this countries
fatalistic crimes have risen.
I rolled my eyes at the ignorance,
but felt the salt of an immigrants tear,
for I saw his politics;
from the chair he’d shaped for years.
How impertinent he be,
with his land of hope and optimism’.
The stripes expressed by his consulted face,
knowing all along he recites in haste –
A talk by political minds in hate;
Our very own fascistic race.
I gave a smile,
for he didn’t know,
just how small the world had become.
Now young people have realized,
we all share the same sun.
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Originally Posted by truth
