The Revelator - 2011/06/19

He is the mud stuck in the soles
Of the fool for which heads roll
Cleaning till time past eternity
Will leave them still very dirty
Knowing he may be dismissed easy
While his words make them queasy
The burden he carries is foreign
Even as you revel in the chagrin

Some say he is a drunken buffoon
Who opens his mouth far too soon
Others sit back and listen quiet
Fearful of the inconvenient riot
Not at all considering the dream
Leading to a future most do deem
A farce for those so unpatriotic
Or the few not fed much narcotic

He looks not to the stormy skies
As God is but a gnat in his eyes
But to their empty hands clasped
To weave futures we once grasped
For the present is of our making
Even as hope is clearly breaking
He worships that power forgotten
Locked in brains now very rotten

Sure that Revelator is my friend
Everybody betrays him in the end
So get in line and make a splash
Sacrificing him before the crash
As we live to refuse and foresee
Worried only about little ole me
The truth born of this Revelator
Bear fruit that mark him traitor

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