Traveler's Battle-Cry

Craving inspiration I return home…looking, longing for something real to hold on to…I return to the never-ending black snake that climbs the hills and descends into the valleys forever chasing the edge of the world…and I find abundant empty traces, signs that show the way…those places in between…eternal hope’s bright ray…that cuts thru the pines and lights my path back home, but my home is where my heart is so forever I will roam…but I’m not empty any longer I was lost but now I’m found, and I’m calling for the gathering of the remnant with the sound of a magic conch shell come on people gather round…Come you scattered people prepare yourselves for war, beat your plowshares into swords and be oppressed and scorned no more. We are the people and we’ve got to fight our cause because the devils on the loose and he’s sharpening his claws. You can call him YHWY, you can call him Uncle Sam, You can call him Lucifer but I call him The Man. He likes to play monopoly and he forces all to play, and he cheats us and he beats us and there’s nothing we can say, but somebody’s got to say it and we’ve got to find a door that leads us to redemption our freedom to restore. Pyramids and towers reaching to the sun…tears falling from the sky land on everyone. Can you feel the rain…can you feel the pain of the lost tribe of Cain?