Fugitive
These are dark days indeed;
That we can’t trust the nation
For which we bleed
To treat with due hesitation
The laws which they all call justifiable
In their attempt to make profit.
Stop it;
All men are created equal;
If we’re nothing but your property
Then I feel pity for you.
We’re moving on up;
Running to the North.
Bloodhounds nipping at our back,
An authorized force.
Can we make the borderline in time
And be with family?
Will the puppet strings pull back?
The whip’ll be the death of me.
Sympathy, my brother;
You were once a free man.
I refuse to think this is some master plan
By great eyes of passerby looking down from the sky;
Uncaring and aloof as our brothers serve and die.
But oh, the revolution continues in secret,
Throwing color to the side; I pray that we’ll make it.
Overturn and burn the power grown corrupt;
It’s now or never, we’ve got to lever
That which man can expect from their government.
(2013)
