33

The wind’s whispers are drown out

by screams and shouts

broken dreams, no doubt seem

the end is near

awash with tears

and years and years will pass you by

what dreams did come abruptly die

and cry and sing farewell to pain

and dance and stumble in acid rain

all that remain now rot and rust

ashes to ashes

and dust to dust

and winds blow truth from dying tongues

but void of proof

with smoke filled lungs

and coffee black

and crack the code

and heart attack and gravel road

we found Tom Joad all out of breath

the preacher man led him to meth

but Jesus freaks don’t speak for him

they leave him hanging from a limb

with nails and pails to catch the wine

heres silver coins, pay Caesar’s fine

we burn the flesh and worship dust

who is this God in whom we trust?

We lust for treasures, fortune, fame

we’ve broken rules of every game

and its a shame we cannot see

that we all hang from the same tree.

 

Roman legionnaires are we,

shouting ‘freedom isn’t free’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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