They’ve got themselves a new spinnon the story, twisted for one-sided glory. Devastation soonnbecoming fuel for the masses new fury. A greedy hand innthe guise of a good man. So threatening. So deafening.nSo silencing, that familiar stance. The burden now passednto us, we lose our footing but still try to stand.nNo control.nNo more rules.n“Perpetual war for perpetual peace”, turn anblind eye to poverty while manufacturing new enemies. Thennew slave’s south of the border, murdered or overseas. Wenstill struggle with the fact that one percent has ninety-ninenon their knees. Washington’s drawing up war plans, whilenthere’s still no hope for the homeless man. No one shouldnhave to live under these men, iron fists with gun in hand.nNo more control.nNo more rules.nThey try to make younand me live life by their design: No free thought. No freenspeech. No peace of mind. They make a move to confine.nBut they’ll never silence me as long as I can breathe.