Author Information
My Flag
These times are heavy, darling
Im telling you now, get out while you can
There's a 700 billion dollar plan to save us all
But our souls are still bound to the devil
We can spit out religion and hang crosses in
our living rooms
but we cant put the drugs down and
we cant stop killing off our own kind
I have a weapon.
It fights its war on paper.
I wave my own flag.
It is not red white and blue
It is not any color at all
Because Democracy is slowly selling itself out
They are eating forbidden fruit by the bushels and
there is no paradise in store for
foundations built out of illusions
America is slipping on banana peels
and lies
And that is just the tip of the iceberg
We all know, and we've all been told that
history repeats itself
And historically speaking, I believe, there will be
another revolution
Viva la poor folk
Viva la revolucion, of life
Because people are going to get tired of fighting for
something that is already lost
the water is receding, everywhere
And the people will grow thirsty
You wont hear of kids drowning anymore
and the animal kindom will have to lay next to us in our straw beds
And we will have to make friends with mannequins cuz,
the diseases will spread
and our bodies will deterioate faster then the speed of growing old
I should get out.
But I don't know where to go.
I don't know of any thing but this
And I remember speaking with you about
leaving legacies and being the ghost
The bold graffiti on the wall
That is my flag
it is the graffiti of my soul
The confetti of our hands not making any promises
they are only made of bone
So write me a song.
Or cut me off.
Your ambilical cord of words will choke me
Like this America, choking on its own mistakes
That is the complication with love and legacy, there is
too much effort involved.
