RESURRECTION

Dead Presidents

In our Heads

But we ain’t fucking Dead

Filled with misery despair and Dread

The symptoms of a money predicated Life

Talk about a heartfelt Knife

What a waste of our Time

Hearts stuck in Enslavement

Dreams buried deep beneath societal Pavement

Prophecies to fulfil as the line Trills

Money ain’t the root of all Evil

But love it does Kill

Our dreams can be Realities

None will tell us we can do It

Because visions are not Normalities

Far away from life’s monotonous Banalities

A musician spits his Balladry

A writer writes his Fight

A boxer punches with his Might

A director films riding into the Night

Lurid city Lights

Berating

As our internal Plights

The thought of I Can

Is the truth

Unlike I Might

I believe in You

Whoever you Are

Wherever you Are

Whenever you Are

Let this be your star from Afar

Your light inside must guide You

Unlike anyone ever Has

Sacrifice it will Take

Temptations you must Burn

Goals you must Write

You are truly Amazing

Like a scorching fire Blazing

So capable of Destroying

Just as it is of Creating