Green, white, red, a coat of arms.
As many said, low-born collide with pure-bred.
The two love birds on their quest to clasp the city south by
west, by north, by south, by east, my knees are weak.
Economy of death reeks of bloody breath.
Narcotics to fuel the dreams. Premonitions of light beams.
Seeing, not knowing. Being controlling.
Signs on the walls. Slowly it crawls.
The forty three for the whole world to see.
Cast into dust. Missing suddenly.
Thousands before and more to be.
Unending slavery to bring unity.
No responses from the saints,
too busy not making claims.
Liberty of expression
will make you a connection.
Steel plates in their heads.
Raining oil, soaking wet.
Blazing surface as they set.
Thoughts are leaving for their beds.
And I see wisdom in foolishness.
I plead guilty to indifferences.
To know and stand unconditionally.
To be a part of the forty three.
Standing so close to me.
But I can barely see through the Coventry.
As thousands before and more to follow
fight for the freedom against a grave too shallow.
By west, by north, by south, by east.
Overlook the cities from afar.
See the people from afar.
By west, by south, by north,
my knees are weak.