We union and confederate citizens wait As if time has no meaning for something to change For the better. We’re headed back toward the past. We become more divided with each grim newscast. As the tree trunk reveals its age, it’s not so strange That our age rings are stained with indelible hate.
It’s been this way from jump. The hatred is intense Enough for revolution against monarchy. Slavery was an issue most bitterly so. Back to those times confederates would have us go. Something is very wrong in this land of the free. We’re now grossly aware of two sides of the fence.
The past several years have been a reflection Of moral degradation and hypocrisy. It was there to begin with. The art of pretense Is one played by some citizens at the expense Of certain types of people who just want to be Treated equally as it is for everyone.
We’re approaching Full Circle as now women’s rights Have been flushed down the toilet. The next thing to leak From the vile crucible of our justice supreme Will speak of more restrictions and to the extreme. Would it be right to say that our future is bleak? It is never something that would keep me up nights.
If I walk outside my house I may be shot dead By some teen with a license which is his white skin. It may be for no other reason than I’m black, And a crime such as that is well worth an attack. What can I do about my original sin? Following this dark sequence is done with much dread.
But I have to go through it. I have not the choice But to work out this puzzle witch fucks with the mind. It’s not that I’m heartbroken. I’m now wide awake To the hate that is due me. No hand may I shake That is not mine in color. In this can I find Some perverted assed reason for me to rejoice?
No I can’t. So, it’s best that I piss and move on. Survival is a given until it is not. I remain just as helpless as decades ago. Civil rights was a pipe dream, and as the weeds grow Hatred lingers and forces itself by gunshot. ‘Seems we’ll never live up to the manicured lawn.
The procession of seasons that nature provides Is severely augmented by issues of race. Responding to the gut punch, I find some relief. And my role in the picture is that much more brief. My death may be related to some lame court case. That’s where I am. I now leave it up to my guides.
On approaching the climax of social disease Evolution of hate networks reaches its peak Spreading literal violence throughout the land. Network Spews is the lifeblood we witness firsthand Through the acts of the populous whose minds are weak. Can a nation recover from such times as these?
One America, schizoid, is out of control Believing insurrection must be the right way. Funded by evil forces with dark network ties, The proud group of deplorables truly despise Anyone who is different, and they must play Vehemently their ill-assumed psychotic role.
Those who’ve heard that a white country is most evolved And that people of color are a subspecies Then believe in a white world where all must adhere To a whitewashed supremacist doctrine in fear. In a world such as this, white men do as they please And the issues of living are never resolved.
That’s the way it should be to the ones who forget That this nation was built by the sweat of non-whites. It’s been since commandeered by the human ego. Network Spews is for people who don’t want to know What is of the truth, especially civil rights. Those immune to reality are the big threat.
We’ll go off and do our own thing. We don’t need you! Monarchy is a menace. We don’t want a king Or a queen to rule over us. We Declare War. Virgin land we will conquer. Our will to explore We inherited from you, and now it will bring What we’ll call a new nation. The time has come due.
But we’ve taken you with us along with some things To make us look inclusive and of open heart As the ones used as tools by the sweat of their backs Build the wealth of our nation that we may relax. And because they’re not like us, we must say apart. Is this not the behavior of rich queens and kings?
It has taken a short time for us to evolve To the point where dissension among us is felt With regard to ‘the other’ who must be maintained As our psychic scapegoat. And it must be restrained Lest the ice in our reddish blue blood starts to melt Which becomes then a catastrophe to resolve.
Civil War is a coldness declared in duress By the now needy nation whose face the world sees As grotesqueness united in having no shame. What is human about us cannot make us tame. Our bone-chilling behavior does make the heart freeze. It’s too cold to be hell. Can I feel any less?