The time has come
For the children to arise
Shake the wicked dreams
And sand from our eyes…
The is no boogie man
No rabbit that lays eggs
Or fat men that can fly
Only questions to beg…
We’re tired of your mirrors
And your smoking breath
You pass your offering plate
As if you are ready for death.
Starving the poor
While the rich get fatter
You wine sacks will bust
And your mirrors shatter!
The great awakening is underway…
© May 26, 2011 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
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