And the beat goes on! Keep the discussions alive! It's the talking heads who let them survive! The fight is on and we're fighting hard! Everyone knows... no ideology barred! Ideologies are our weapons

I've mastered the art of dreaming, especially during the day, when life seems to be throwing all kinds of shit my way. I use my mastery of dreaming, as the shit is being hurled. It makes me feel invulnerable,

By way of the sword we spread democracy. Our peaceful country so full of hypocrisy. We're destroying regimes in foreign lands. Our government's deeds leave blood on our hands. The Christian culture, that

It's deathly still In this deathly place. Gravestones as monuments To the dead mans grace. Their memories Chiseled in stone. To be remembered When they have long gone. Their remaining existence, Marked

I blinked my eyes. My sight was lost. But then they opened again. The moment they closed, I understood. that darkness can calm my brain. When I sleep my soul wakes up, and brings me to the world of dreams.

Standing before Heavens beautiful gate, many of us seem to have come way too late! I asked St. Peter why he won't let us in. You must keep out! You stink of sin. But, every Sunday I open my heart to let

Swimming against the current, and suffering so much pain. The effort needed to reach my goal lets me hope there's much to gain. I've reached my goal, and I'm relieved. I feel that I need a break. I quit

Life was guiding me to positive shores and I worked hard to get there faster. All of a sudden life changed directions and, I must say, it was a terrible disaster! I worked even harder to get back on track,

The drama of stupidity unfolding before my eyes. All the stupid people asking all the stupid why's. Listening to the news while being told only lies. Looking to their government for answers they believe

Looking for love where there's only hate. Keeping your hopes high in spite of your fate. Looking for peace within your own soul. Hiding your self, and playing your role. Plotting revenge on those who've

I pierced my finger to write in blood, some magic words so full of power. I begin to write on quality parchment, as my mind keeps me in the wizards tower. I'm well aware of the sorcerers tale of rotating