I get up every morning read the papers front to back,
Not missing a single word.
I like the way it feels folding over in my hands.
a relic of the past.
My future is past
The papers sing me stories of things I can’t control or stop,
Swearing it’s from god.
I drink my bitter coffee, conversing with my friend-
My version of the creator.
He’s my favorite god!
And I feel helpless against the tide of liberty’s decay.
I feel helpless against the tide of political betrayal!
But underneath it all are excuses that I tell myself,
The excuses of my story.
My wife she holds the purse and my shame seems to never end,
The shame of my story.
There’s no jobs to be had!
And I feel helpless against the tide of liberty’s decay.
I feel helpless against the tide of political betrayal!
It takes more then a ribbon to show you care,
More then a flag on your chest to be aware.
Serving your country can be done in many ways,
You don’t have to die so other will say.
“He’s a true patriot, god rest his weary soul.
He died on a cross or was it under the sole,
Of a boot still worn by a our butcher of choice.
He gave his life to defend my voice”.
Lord, lift him to heaven, god rest his soul
but his family and his neighbors got to get off the dole……….
Don’t just stand and wait for the American spring,
Don’t just be idle but sing the praises of the free.
Freedom is not the right to be white,
It’s the right of dissension, and the will to fight.
I’m gonna run and find our American spring,
I’m gonna get on my knees and pray for this thing.
I’m gonna find you and dance and sing,
I’m scream and shout our American spring.
You gotta fight for the American spring!
You gotta die for the American spring!
You can’t hide from the American spring!
We all long for the American spring……
Selah,
the rev
The Reverend LordRifa 