Leaders speak Karma, while lending me spite.
Fists down, hammer hands with fortitude,
I will remember your lies this night.

Equivocating justice, like the burns of my skin
bring me renewed breath and life.
Least I can sense deception and it's evasive eye.

The sun shines no secrets, as the rain falls with nourishing expediency. Yet the tongue of a man in hold of my vessel, reaps none of the renown.

Whose incessant mercy saves me once again from the imperfections of blood filled skin. Once again, I am murderous to the father's creation.

Have I no choice? I believe more likely not, for survival has become contingent on hefty hands and handbooks, numbered pages and liasions.

I evoke eternity evades hypocrisy. Nothing can replace sending my brothers into harm's loveless way. Where the wind and dust hold hands in dismay.

Is where I will pronounce you, mr. bush, as little and obsolete as the bark of a dead willow swaying over the sill of the valleys you keep.

Full of malign machines, oh I mean the GOPs. Whatever pseudonym portrays the proper connatation for a tribe of masochists.

Teeth of the sabers you seethe into the poor, my brokeback comrades, and the lost cause lovers of the desolate legion held sway only in black gold.

I hate ranting, so this is where I halt and shame down today. White house painted decit and brillant creatures who thrust the truth into decadence.

Is where I end another purport of my beliefs, idolized in no man, for the only way to reprimand is in the eyes of the only transcendence to ever be.

Loving and saving, I only seek to speak the truth, for what and whoever that means to believe. I can firmly perceive that all is political, for all is ambient, as is the effects of an inept leader.

However, I love the blues, necessary reds, and the proliferating white, who's promises illuminate the darkest of disillusioned nights.

My friends, my life. My father, My strife inside. Answers last as long as they seem, as peace rings only in time for them to be deceived.

As I believe I have been, as for all the rest of lives before my hand. Rested on the fact that all should own all that is true, for nothing gains if all is buttered and filled with flourless grains.

The soil doesn't keep beasts, as the sky doens't hold one man's wings indefintely. For angels and demons are the only immune to all's cruelties.

Either up above, down below, or inward I will bestow. I bleed and die in this land. I loathe deception, prudence, and xenophobic conservatives, as the knife to the hostage.

And whomever refuses to share the wealth of the superflous hand, is the man the Lord sees as the one who refuses his gift of mercy, and unending repute of his son, the lamb.

So sing it slowly, and hold hand wholly over transigent heart. Duality brings discrepancy, as I'm sure you're aware of tonight in your

Facist, I mean freedom ringing dreams. Bring love, bring life. You can't stop what's coming. Changes, as the seasons, rely on no one's

Lacune of charity. Clean hands hold as much as a man incarcerated. Nothing but all that his guilt and shame mold. Hold, Cling tightly. Clarity shines through, the youth are more informed

Than a mind more incompetent than the second bloom of a single stem, having only room for one of the dichotomy of the rosy kin.