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The Dreamer

I am not a slave to the humble and brave
that insight violence to the silence of the grave

I am not a slave to the humble and brave
that insight violence to the silence of the grave
my words are my bullets aimed at the beast
Awakening the sleepy, for it is the morning of peace
No more food for this hungry beast to feed
Feeding on the lost sorrowed souls of greed
Power to the puppets, cut off all the strings
This is our last chance before the fat lady sings
Non violence was preached not from a priest
But from the wise words of Gandhi , as he searched for peace
No war, no pain, enough blood in our streets
If we continue down this road, the demons will feast
together we piece the puzzles of the past
a picture near to completion at last




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