resident mockery give us an hour for magic
We of the purple glove
We of the starling flight & velvet hour
We of arabic pleasure's breed
We of sundome & the night
Give us a creed
To believe
A night of l***
Give us trust in
The Night
Give of color
hundred hues
a rich Mandala
for me & you & for your silky pillowed house
a head, wisdom & a bed
Troubled decree
Resident mockery
has claimed thee
We used to believe in the good old days
We still receive In little ways
The Things of Kindness & unsporting brow
Forget & allow
Did you know freedom exists in a school book
Did you know madmen are running our prison
w/in a jail, w/in a gaol, w/in a white free protestant
Maelstrom
We're perched headlong
on the edge of boredom
We're reaching for death
on the end of a candle
We're trying for something
That's already found us
We can invent Kingdoms of our own
grand purple thrones, those chairs of l***
& love we must, in beds of rust
Steel doors lock in prisoner's screams
& muzak, AM, rocks their dreams
No black men's pride to hoist the beams
while mocking angels sift what seems
To be a collage of magazine dust
Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust
This is just jail for those who must
get up in the morning & fight for such unusable standards
while weeping maidens show-off penury & pout ravings for a mad staff
We of the purple glove
We of the starling flight & velvet hour
We of arabic pleasure's breed
We of sundome & the night
Give us a creed
To believe
A night of l***
Give us trust in
The Night
Give of color
hundred hues
a rich Mandala
for me & you & for your silky pillowed house
a head, wisdom & a bed
Troubled decree
Resident mockery
has claimed thee
We used to believe in the good old days
We still receive In little ways
The Things of Kindness & unsporting brow
Forget & allow
Did you know freedom exists in a school book
Did you know madmen are running our prison
w/in a jail, w/in a gaol, w/in a white free protestant
Maelstrom
We're perched headlong
on the edge of boredom
We're reaching for death
on the end of a candle
We're trying for something
That's already found us
We can invent Kingdoms of our own
grand purple thrones, those chairs of l***
& love we must, in beds of rust
Steel doors lock in prisoner's screams
& muzak, AM, rocks their dreams
No black men's pride to hoist the beams
while mocking angels sift what seems
To be a collage of magazine dust
Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust
This is just jail for those who must
get up in the morning & fight for such unusable standards
while weeping maidens show-off penury & pout ravings for a mad staff