Country mend

These tears beg you to see what we see
Standing in the midst of dry land
Seeking refuge in a palace that you have built with my blood

Sweat and tears were not all you took
As these hands toil nailless

All eaten because hunger is across the land

Made up faces are like made up minds
False happiness and false hope
written on a cheque checked by a fan set on high

High bills like high winds come blowing
As i keep blowing high trees all knowing
That these winds are blowing my thoughts
And knowing this last puff will blow in
My face now showing the same high bill

Im high! 
this high is not lowering...

These highs are lowering my existence

A zero! No expectations of the silver lining
I’m caught whining in the midst of the gathered tired

Sick of dreaming and singing that “we shall overcome” crap

It never ends, as false hope and false life fills the air
The scent of self permeates the fabric of the village
More spillage of priceless blood that soaks the new foundation

Another soul on the wall
Calling! Screaming to a dressed up puppet with painted ears
An illusion of a listener, beckoning to a brush to stroke an ego

Seeking a hero that's looking for me
Thinking the same "can you set me free?"

If we're told we're all zeros then how can we believe a hero when he appears
No longer aware of the price sold to him
But baptized in the real value of his worth

A real hero!

Speaking languages we only dreamed for our untouchable selves
Representative of everything we wanted to be until we bought his blood from the mall

a mere picture hanging on the face of the wall

we've wed the ideas that's stuck in his head the ideas of a man that's dead

no zeal to wield the wheels of change because we came up short

Mr. King give our deaf ears a ring

lift us from the melodrama episode that’s called Obama

cause we thought that we made it there! But that was just the beginning

The struggle continues in the midday sun

Where the lines are long and justice is undone

While we sing war songs of another nation

Our discrimination is one to one

No people, no nation, no destiny in between

Just bandits, killers and politicians for the green

You’re killing our heroes, feeding us woes of yesteryear that were never there

Rampant colors and escapades that you’ve deemed necessary

Division is key to this monstrosity you call democracy

Stop building the stage for mayhem

You keep giving us reason to condemn

Our heroes of old will speak through the ground

No whispers, but a SHOUT for that ill gotten crown

We the people bleed for you to see

Where diplomacy has failed

We’ll brandish new weaponry