Do your eyes burn yellow from the sweat?
The stinging thorn of love won't soon forget.
Circled gardens, dreams, seems every path
leads back to where you are, from whence I came.
Maintained wife and playboy kids, facebook pets.
Saving men to bleed on desecrated land.
Being born, before I came, was no safe bet.
Overhead a bullet talking, whispers it's a dream.
Here they come to give up more not ever less.
Hear I am, that rooster others came to crush.
And they have sown and they have sown, enough.