The Civil

When rights are for the civil, the civil are for their rights

For to paint white signs, and take the fines for their fine display of patriotic protest

Protesting the pious palace, which holds their right to rights in lie's binding band

But the civil's signs of white mimic the skin of the pious palace walls of the house of hypocrisy

So to change the course of chaos the civil stride against the ripping tide of a tidal river

The hose how it blows beating blow after blow, but they tread against the undertow, and all the while the civil grow.

Marching through hell, marked by the splatter of spattered fruit flailed in hate, to deter the progression of truth in this untruthful state

The state of confusion, so far it results in the inevitable seclusion of a people

A people whose church steeple now rises higher to ring the bell of liberty, let it ring across the land

Shake the earth, stone, and sand, to each coast, let the people boast in their oncoming victory

And now feel the air pulsate as the sound of clanging truth begins to palpitate the hearts that once did hate

They pick up the beat, get on their feet, and race to embrace the others, their civil brothers

Whether they be blacker or cracker it no longer matters

For in the light of what is right the right to being loved as a fellow man can no longer be held in lie's binding band

Now truth and justice stand for each and every civil man

For when the civil are for their rights, the rights are for the civil