Tuesday, October 27, 2009


One day he will rise from the squalor
The pleasure of his woman’s body no more
He’ll seek comfort from cold black metal
With his finger on the trigger

One day, this landowner’s child will be called a rebel
All because Daddy left him nothing when he was young
Beasts of metal ravaged his home when he was a baby
They tore down the giants that made him wonder in awe

The rivers are sick and the birds sing no more
The fish have left for distant streams
Daddy’s passion for pleasure died with him long time ago
What’s money when you don’t have a home?

One day, this landless landowner’s son will be called a rebel
‘Tis inevitable that he will arise driven by anger
At the slant eyed stranger who raped the ancient virgins
He’ll seek justice in lawlessness for rage will be his god

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