(no subject)

Aug 06, 2004 07:10

Where did those singer songwirters go?
With their long cryptic hair
thoughts spilling out of their head
Infilltrating homes everywhere
Calling the masses
To examine and decide
To evaluate and process
But to never close their eyes
Tight pants couldn't hide
All the poetry indside
With the feminist revolution
Storming gates outside
All the good that was done
Is unralvaling before my eyes

rapped in Killer pumps
And heavily make-uped eyes

Princesses walking around
With haze in their eyes
Living in an age of ignorance
Fulled by big buissness propaganda and lies

Where are the singer songwriter
To resurect that burnning flame
Of the feeling of knowing
of knowing that they have a plan
that they can make a difference
change the winds in their favor
Save children from starvation
Fuel a revloution without anger
They were the masses
The grass Roots of SanFrancisco
The old money of their time
America's children on a mission

And i look at them
And wonder what doused that flame
What left our generation lost and without a plan
Maybe it's the magazines
that tell us what to wear
How to attract a man
With a flirtatious flip of the hair
They've stammped out all thought
Left no room for indecission
No space left for contimplation
No room left to make a decission

let's not look for a perfect body
But a perfect soul
Let's find someone with talent
so that we don't have to pay money for cloths
That intise the loins and not the soul
Then let's go spend that money to save some lives
To give other people a fighting chance to survive
Let's go feed some children
Who work day and night
In those back breaking fields
Fighting for life
BUt we're all busy being brainwashed
By teen idols of the time
invading your home and your mind
Through your tv and magazines
calling on you to fall in line
Let's rob the Teen royalty
And give someone else a chance at life
Someone in those far off countrys
So maybe they can take a family vacation
To jamaicca
And avoid the colorful locals
And sidesteep the poor
To go straight to the Sunlit tourist locations
But don't worry
we'll leave the Brittany Spears something to live on
How about a sack of rice
And poor land to grow it on
i'm sure they'll do fine
Half the world pulls by
living by the skin of their teeth
But thanking the Gods they're alive

Then let the pop Queens try
To brainwash our minds
to tell us what to wear
To tell us when to cry
To flaunt our sexuality
but stay a chaste young girl
To tease the whole world
And to hold ourselves above all others
So i say
Brandish your souls as the collateral for this world
Think your own thoughts
Tend your own coals
creeate and Empire of heaven
here on earth
Rise up from your middle classes
And brandish your scars
Like burning flames
The grass roots of our time
is boiling under us
In the very soles of our feet
leading us to walk a path of certain decission
A path of certain decission
To that burning flame off in the distant
That recalls the days of Glory
Of the motivated youth of the nation
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