we spoke our views and included the few that wanted to be clued in as to who was holding our voice for randsom. they want more cash for our talents to pass their cirriculum cooperation compression disorder. they want more of us to hush and walk past and nulify our rights to speach, freely. freely we stood to take a stand and still sequester these jesters to ground themselves straightfaced with a point in case beyond the calculated value of our souls in their pocket books. now they think us weak, but we be strong. so strong we took 2 hours to make a song. people sang in poetry and breaths we've taken as souls were shaken about the doubts of freedom in our city. should we run and hide away our emotions at the bottom of bottles incandescent in essence to present a lack of presence. should we forgoe that which is supposed to be innate and negate the correlation between body and soul...soul to mind...to mine these fields of chil'en seeded in deep within the community of pundits who spun shit so fast their eyes became glass...cause they work with the sand man and he helps them sleep at night and they connect the irrigation tunnels to funnel monetary values higher than family values and community. they capitalize on the grants and take percentages of scantily clad fads that flaunt too often around the sound and so conscious. obnoxious noxious gases cascading contiuously, corroding the caverns we've carved out of these desolate times. they want no voice to be heard and we...we just want...to be.