we rant and rave
of how we have become a slave
we think and write
of how we can no longer fight
we sit and talk
of the long midnight walks
we use the same words
stuck in such a rut
helplessly begging for change
we cry with our pens
writing of what we lost
bitching about the cause
we rant and rave
of how we have become a slave
we think and write
of how we can no longer fight
we sit and talk
of the long midnight walks
hopelessly searching for the change
we hide behind our pen
writing of what we wish we could be
bitching about the pain
to bad its all the same
to bad we cant think of anything new
except for the brilliant minded few
