the lion isn't sacred when not sleeping near the lambnit is evil when it eats, unless it's feeding from the damnednall the children painted diagrams of god upon their handsnhoping somewhere on this shaking earth, they could find a place to stand.nnit's a tyrant to the foreigners who've never seen the landnthey feel safer than a statue when they've got a spear in hand, nit is pregnant with the fury that the pain in life demandsnyes it's fear--but it's a fear that understands.nnand what's left is a heartbeat speaking,nhands off your fate, child, you'll bury yourself in mistakes.nlike a dream that i had of lost faith, it fadesnaway but still thunders onward.nevery pulse was a hand with it's palm upnfed with bodies and bread soaked in blood.nsomeday, somewhere it'll leave but, tell me, someone, where does it go?nwhat tied our hands tight to the train tracks, then backed off slowly?nwhat does the heart say?nsee the reverse. there's an answer there.nni am the moth-drenched love of dead mulesnas stable as sand in a windstormnand i shake like a spider in the rain when you say,nmy, my, the ways i've changed since then--the ways i've changed.nand all I ever say is i'm...nit hits like a brick to the back of your headnlike, goodbye, five times, one for each fingernand you say, my, my, the ways i've changed since then--the ways i've changed.nand all i ever say is, i'm tired. i'm tired.nwe turned our water into whining, shouting,nlet us be like christ!nbut then the whining turned to wonder,nand the wonder turned to icenonce we were graceful steeples,nhands held upward and eyes wide in suspensennow we are tangled like intruders, nin the wires of the fence.nfor a fence is built to protect what lies inside of it.nndo you still feel sick? because i do.nnn