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All Lyrics are the Intellectual Property of Mike Anderson

(Note! These lyrics have been recorded onto a tape legally accepted in a court of law. This grants ME a defacto copyright. That means if you steal these lyrics, I will sue the shit out of you. Have a nice day!)

Patron: Poor little rich boy, and his childhood revisions Ambitious or so it would seem He’s lost his own secret, his secret for living Left to survive, and to count his misgivings, And lie... Follow me patron, of sainthood and murder Follow me into the flames With the world at your throat, and hell at your heels Lacking the vision to see, care, or feel Or to try…. A dash on the canvas, can be accepted Lacking the will to break through To imagine a world, free of confusion Lacking apathy, pain, and abuse and good-byes Delusional boy, lacking the drive Unfortunate, simply a shame A statement of martyrdom, a manifest of dreams Merely a stat, a number, a scheme… but why? Overcast and cool, humidity high Monday, November fifteenth No matter the effort, the change remains missing Left to ponder, remember, left reminiscing a fly…

Rapport Home front Incarceration Somewhere between Exploiting indecision In everything committed And beating fists and bibles Left with only the memories Of less pressing times Gazing at the ocean The gently rolling sea Clouds of smoke drifting lazily Falling to their knees With sobs of respite And so the tide flowed out Flowing out with that tide Were hopes and dreams for unrealized futures, discarded much too soon And so left ideals, and the bleeding hearts, the contention to ignore, the desperate concealment of common sense, And came a time of rapport And yet with the pulse of time The swells continue on The tides of tomorrow Are here by merely dawn Today Sitting dumbfounded Somewhere between Exploiting indecision In everything committed And beating fists and bibles

Conversations with Gods:Can a rose thrown on a bleeding heart bend a new reality? Is it possible to say freedom from fear is a near practicality? Can a kiss on a wound of ages past inspire a new mentality? Is love a figment inspired by thought, wrought into brutality? To answer would fly in the face of god… The treasure of kings, a loved one’s façade That face in the mirror, a paper flying in the wind The hole in hearts where wrongs have been pinned Can you say there’s a heaven, fires toiling in hell? Will our lives be swamped by fate’s bitter swells? Do those who rant and complain have the resolve to rebel? Can we look towards the future, or is the past where we dwell? To answer would be to question the hand of fate… Is it that inner force telling us to procreate? A friend who we must trust to guide us through life? An enemy who moves one along with their back to a knife? Firmly entrenched in the battlefield of time A message must fly to us from the spirit within, that silent tongue that seems to speak all Find your own reality inside your own skin.

Ivory Tower:(Up there!) High upon your ivory tower of righteousness (Can you see me?) Will loathing be healed by forgetfulness? (A siren of discord?) Your tongue was always a tool of destruction (Unintelligible chatter?) To hell goes substance, give them production Subdued affirmations of concord For you made under duress A twist of the hand What is this “oppress”? To put you on a podium Is to carry a cross Croix de Gurre moreso, Faces? Merely emboss. Brother, friend, comrade in arms Waited too long to sound the alarms Associate, my acquaintance in league Silence of caution replaced by a scream Equality near, follow our father Apathetic accord, not caring to bother Planting the seeds of discord An internal epiphany Growing those enlightened Enlightened with empathy Shall take a lifetime, And fairly so As to the victor shall the spoils go… (Up there!) High from that lofty tree branch (Can you see me?) You took a bet, a risky chance (A murmur is that?) Seeing you eye to eye, finally easy for me (Silence?) Yet your face is inverted, as you hang from your feet.

Visions:Dare to wander in the shadows of yesteryear’s missteps Imagining a world less than what was Stand below the height of those lesser than yourself Disregarding what, for others, was applause Remembering the days of yore with a wistful eye Has never have been your forté Scorning the ones who dare pride oneself Forgetting the past, scorning today Yet you… wonder why today… went awry Ignorant to achievements’ praise And you Ponder how You finally Lost now Recognition of clichés… Never appealed… To you… Dare to bask of in the light of the accord of today Imagining a world better than now Standing shoulder to shoulder with those taller than you Disregarding limits of what others allow A myriad of roads lay ahead of those willing to try Listen to the canorous tune of tomorrow Predictions of a figurehead of the future pervades… If one lets inspirations be those of borrow And you’re Leaving the past And avoiding… The caste… Of inhibitions gone Forget not Conflicts begot Today is Merely the dawn… Of tomorrow… For you

Past:Block seventeen-twenty two You know the girl.. That woman in blue With the little slit eyes? Assured her of the shame I left that hellhole To go back to the war… I remember the pain The day the sky fell His speech inane Reich on its last knees Yet, Sherman Five under siege Harbinger of death airborne Another proven hero not born But under pressure was made “No ma’am Lady, he’s dead You know he saved the lives of the husbands of wives Ma’am, it was bleak Firing off his blood soaked rounds The work of God counfounds” Feeling utterly weak …a tear on my cheek? “Yes ma’am A hero he is You know he fought for our lives Under the devil’s knives Ma’am, it was a trap Protecting you in your own town, …rather government grounds A fine old chap” Too bad he was Jap

Crosses:Preach to us father, of logic and word Open us a future unknowingly deferred A random tirade by a superior fool For the future of deception, let us be fuel “Credibility has all but vanished!” he cries with a scroll in his hand, a gleam in his eyes Clenched fists of iron end welcoming arms The fire of lucre offers limitless charms Condemn our youth, yet offer us wings Live the word of the future: follow, don’t think Follow my children, no stop to decay Meaning for money: fraud’s protégé Cheated, stolen, battered, deceived, Surely, you’re wrong…confused and naïve Be my own Judas, help create the mold To smelt works of art into crosses of gold