Down with me.
A toxic bag of mixed up words and lethargy
A locked down prison and it isn’t enough
It isn’t enough
Talk with me
A fractured breath of acquiesce escaping free
You pretend to listen but it isn’t enough
As you bully and shove
For thine is the kingdom coming
Oh God, he’s coughing up blood!
We could dance, we could dance, but we don’t.
And we’re making it worse.
The handed down machines of revolution were run aground
The captured flag of wisdom tattered and rough
And we’re burning the cloth.
And there’s no response
No rising action and no protest songs
Of crashing bone and crimson
Hardy and tough.
We just splutter and cough.
The flick from your tongue and the spit
And the damage done on your lip
God, your breaking the skin and it split
And its wrong so we kick but you’re carrying on
Got me sick to my lungs of wanting the flick.