Some of us are geniuses to the world
Some of us are simplistic
And all of us give the world What it needs when it needs it
Some of our talents are music
Some linguistic
Some colourful expressions of hate
Which you never know, so can’t cancel or sedate
There’s this thing that’s been happening
Our souls soak up art like bread in milo
Never considering the possible torment
that artist has been through
Or sometimes we know and ignore
Feeding their expressions to the world were worth more
Until it is no longer, not now anyway
We line up with pitchforks at our keyboards and we light the torches of hate
Forgetting that beauty is many times born from the pregnancy of ill fate
Jail them if you wish, kill them if you like
But to desecrate the art that for decades eased our plight, fueled our fight, encouraged our might
Through Abandonment, adolescence, sparked dreams and tears.
Gave us family and friends when no one was there
Gave rise to imaginations that was headed to dormant
How dare you take artists' art and say it shall no more be
Punish the individual if you must
Remember from those twisted, nasty, misunderstood minds
They gave us, revelry and nuff good times
Look at yourself, all of you,
With your reflection evident
Ask if you would have the strength and resolve to do what they do
Take the money, disgrace their fame
Throw them in the paddywagon never to be seen again
Retribution; one shot to the heart
But don’t you atop your soap box, try to take away the art.
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