sharing words is fun, just look at it all, and i've only begun.
trying to explicate my stances in a simply stated standard,
while not standardizing, these stances are far from standard taught not from the hand that feeds
those hands are inbred with greed, the voices of the hungry bleed overseas. incomplete to the whole picture, this painting's been painted better before,
while we all hit snooze and continue to ignore just make believe that the blood on your hand is false folk lore
what's in store for the future holds not promise, the donkey's kick won't ever be as powerful as the first brick thrown to show we've had enough,
the fundamentalist's arent just living in the desert sand, they're in a white house running a would be band (by any sane man) program, of lies deciet and compliance,
forming allience with other clients defiant against human rights. name your number and they've got more, and injected with ore into their vains. the stains they leave,
will need more then 2 repeats of cleansing to clean the history of their not so mysterious motives that loaded the gun that begun the revolution.
poured out with ease, these words are hear not to decieve, honesty is key in reclaiming what we all need, peace will not foster in systems desinged with out
enough solder alloted to span back the pieces of basic human necessities to you and me. whats the point of freedom when you're backed into a tunnel with no way out, looking at the snout of this machine, one cant stare it in the eyes and ask if it's all just a dream.
pinch or punch or pull me, the later will come eventually, striving to creatively create expressive messages of thought while the world seems to be falling farther into the depths of lunacy.
while not standardizing, these stances are far from standard taught not from the hand that feeds
those hands are inbred with greed, the voices of the hungry bleed overseas. incomplete to the whole picture, this painting's been painted better before,
while we all hit snooze and continue to ignore just make believe that the blood on your hand is false folk lore
what's in store for the future holds not promise, the donkey's kick won't ever be as powerful as the first brick thrown to show we've had enough,
the fundamentalist's arent just living in the desert sand, they're in a white house running a would be band (by any sane man) program, of lies deciet and compliance,
forming allience with other clients defiant against human rights. name your number and they've got more, and injected with ore into their vains. the stains they leave,
will need more then 2 repeats of cleansing to clean the history of their not so mysterious motives that loaded the gun that begun the revolution.
poured out with ease, these words are hear not to decieve, honesty is key in reclaiming what we all need, peace will not foster in systems desinged with out
enough solder alloted to span back the pieces of basic human necessities to you and me. whats the point of freedom when you're backed into a tunnel with no way out, looking at the snout of this machine, one cant stare it in the eyes and ask if it's all just a dream.
pinch or punch or pull me, the later will come eventually, striving to creatively create expressive messages of thought while the world seems to be falling farther into the depths of lunacy.