Impartial

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.