You want to run through the senate,
seeing them fear far from home.
You want to be pithy, critical and correct.
You want to distance yourself from the left.
You want to keep fighting,
though wind, fire and rain.
Trouble is,
can you switch off your brain?
Cauz it seems like you’ve been all doctored up,
by the media and tycoons to fill your own cup.
Instead of the pity, regret or regard,
you want to call it God’s divines plan.
I’ve never seen you take a knee,
bow your head or shake in disbelief.
But everytime you speak and show,
I need lots of relief and my hope goes low.
I guess it our job to make you redundant,
so there’s nothing to worry us, nothing aberrant.
We can all live in our ecclectical delight,
shining our love while fanatically fidgiting frough fright.
We all know someone who tweaking their tools,
getting materials and knowledge on rules.
But the fishers of men and the pious phew,
are only there to serve their own temple too.
Thirty three years of rereading those plans,
the one’s that radiated not as only fans cans.
The message is simple but the translation sucks,
Don’t stick to your guns because empathy aren’t rugs.
There’s an unlimited, infinite discription of sorts,
we need to keep reading until enough gets absorbed.
Yet the way through is from meditation and thought,
its when the penny drops and the joined dots are formed.
But if were closed with our preconceptions,
Doubting and fighting our free expressions.
Trouble should hardly haunt us so,
because we’ll know thats the time to go.
– Watt Effer