Did I ever call for
your fame?
Why do we fight in
your name?
Is it really true that
you´re there?
And do you ever
answer my prayers?
We are calling for
change,
so why don´t you
come back again?
Why do you spread
love uneven?
This is not what I
believe in.

Do I have the right,
to write this down?
Without heresy pointing
a finger at me.
Rights?
We don´t have no more.
In this catastrophe,
of a 21st century war.

Did I ever call for
your fame?
Why do we fight in
your name?
Is it really true that
you´re there?
And do you ever
answer my prayers?
We are calling for
change,
so why don´t you
come back again?
Why do you spread
love uneven?
This is not what I
believe in.

Turn and let your gaze
burn over yonder,
a young man stern
with the hunger,
who never puts asunder,
the late night thoughts
and the wonder.
Writing is a lightening
speech is a thunder.
Kid, I´m misinterpreted
like a Marxist.
The scared will
ask this,
impartial vocabulary
martial artist
practice verbal Ti-Chi
and pilates.
Da Linguist, the proper
opportunist.
Quick to drop a new list
of rhymes which
revue this,
right wind stifling that
we´re suffering,
far from enlightening it´s
frightening so usher in,
a new type of verbal
well being.
As your talks are warped
by a canopy of entropy,
enter the Linguist who
eventually,
with a dismaying display
of rhyme slaying advances.
The impartial vocabulary
martial artist.

Did I ever call for
your fame?
Why do we fight in
your name?
Is it really true that
you´re there?
And do you ever
answer my prayers?
We are calling for
change,
so why don´t you
come back again?
Why do you spread
love uneven?
This is not what I
believe in.

Did I ever call for
your fame?
Why do we fight in
your name?
Is it really true that
you´re there?
And do you ever
answer my prayers?
We are calling for
change,
so why don´t you
come back again?
Why do you spread
love uneven?
This is not what I
believe in.