Dictate this letter,
it states your life is not yours at all,
and sign it with paternal love
Their weapons of contempt
sent to conquer hearts
or continents,
egotiation,
accommodation,
or the spray jobs of death squad assassination.
They carve their marks in your flesh
to attest to the fact
that we can't forgive and we won't forget.
Capitalist will Capitalize on each and every situatino,
hearts or dollars--
the bottom line,
sadly the common preoccupation.
Bury contradictions in unmarked shallow graves,
but remember the undead lie restless in their tomb.
They carve their marks...
There are questions,
simple questions they do not want you to ask,
should you choose noto to choose
the least resistant path,
their only answer for you
(and history tends to prove),
they'll bathe your wounds like Patrice Lamumba
in an acid vat.
And I know everything you say
gets spit back in your face,
it's all so hard to separate.
And I know every time you try
a thousand knives stuck in your side,
but that won't allow you to hide.
They carve their marks...