Caricamento in corso...

Hold your mud

The time for half measures was never meant to
be.Loose lipped friends become loose ends, no
witness stand, no raised right hand....just a
martyr and his beliefs.
 
To enter into the trust of brotherhood, to swear
by, and hold this sacred vow.Birds of a feather,
do indeed flock together, perched in mass silently
upon the same bough.
 
Crime is not criminal, justice not just. Black is
white at the seems.When everyday is just as it
was, before the state’s witness has been redeemed.
 
No man is innocent, no not one....be not hindered
by moral device. You burned the saint, you took the
oath, swore to gaurd this brotherhood with your life.
 
Like rats from a sinking ship, you trade friendship
for freedom, whos reflection do you see in the frame?
You let names spill of your own free will, so tell me this
friend....will you not also feel hells flame?
 
So I must digress and back away from one who wasn’t
strong enough to see, that an oath is just words just like
like feathers on Birds all perched in the same tree.

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