Hate is a strong word backed by a heart of sorrow

And tears that flow to the tents and gallows.

An enraged brain that wants to cut the throats

Of men on boats and vacations at Mar-A-Lago  

And putting balls, the clacks don’t mask the cries  

Of children in camps, scared to death at night

Because their mom hasn’t tucked them in this night

And it sounds like shouts at the gate; there may be a fight  

The police are called on a man from Oregon

He may be the first, but he is not the last one

To call at the pain he feels in his brain

There are so many kids, we hope we’re not late.

Do we not save the kids until it’s too late?

Where is your compassion! Where is the fate

You promised the world that your God is good  

Will you not see the evil until you notice the blud?  

The boden you stand on, it can not support

Your support for the devil, or the hell you report

As what may or may not be a cage to report  

Your side is not winning if it still has to sort  

The difference between a cage and a cell  

While refugee babies are living in hell

And now all you ask is, “well are they legal?”  

The morale in that question is utterly feeble

I cry on my knees while you look at my feeble  

Heart, sorry to ask, but are you evil.

You discard my tears and call me a child

It’s sad to say, but I am not beguiled.

Because you want me, exactly where they are  

Locked in a cage clinging to bars

While you croak and grin, you’re drinking at bars

But while you’ve been drinking, guns are among the stars.  

What to defend? The art has already been seized.

We are fighting for nothing, the kids cannot breathe.

And I just cannot hold on for much longer

I have great feelings of love, but my hate has grown stronger.

Hate is a strong word, and it’s getting pretty late

The bars have grown stronger, the beginning of night

But it is wrong to report we are feeble, we are ready to fight.