I messed up this life of mine, and cannot stand proud among angels.
Oh purity forgive each sample of tempt.
I do cry out with sickness, of which no baptism can heal.
Holiday wine, but I'm nothing more than a puddle of mud.
Drowning in blissful stream seems the only solution.
Departing as is, will be the cleanest conclusion.
You'll sully a cloth with salt water beads,
The uncomfort may cause you to drop to your knees.
Oh my earth brothers and sisters,
Gaia is destined to be free of Babylon gov't / corporate control.
A year from right now, the world will look back.
They'll take a moment to pray for the follies of past.
Then the once starving tribes will eat routine supper,
and drink water freely, before sleeping in comfort.
For two thousand years, and even before,
martyrs have died in hope of ending man's Earth wars.
God bless the saints who've the courage to stay,
but my fellow Guy Fawkes' – we choose our own way.
Raising common sensibility above the system of common spotlight whores,
will free people of the hardships created from the misuse of resources.
Equality not imposition, comes through respect for all life.
Exodus from the collective dark psyche that manufactures such strife.
Raising banners of compassion within cities world-wide,
teaching lessons of spirit, while roaring out loud with the humblest of pride.
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