Sipping on what seemed like life itself

Whiskey dreams enticed this Asian tongue

As though the drunks at their Irish pubs had it cornered

An appreciation for forgetting the sorrows and dreams

Because yellow man turned red face was not a reflection

Of Psycho turned dictator offering up his peoples future                                

It is just this young man’s foolish way to prove bravery

In the face of imminent danger, brought down by his oppressed

Middle class, never worked in a field forgotten socialist dreams

But now in an information age filled by sobering realities,

 I wonder is it that sweet taste of courage

Or the outright enraged serum of truth

The simple fact that I drank to forget regrets

Bitter and sour nights these intoxicated lifetimes of shame

That I could not truly comprehend the empathy

Which offers me not answers but truly gives way to questions

Cause there is no future at the end of the glass

Trading up addiction only to find that my people

Still lurk the dens of the new government opiate

Welfare and media like all pushers dictate for the rich

Now and as always I watch you sleep being slowly poisoned   

Deeper you fall from the reach of my screams

Hoping and grasping that one of you may reach out

Smash your fists upon the glass bars that imprison us

Shatter their illusions placed upon your eyes

Because we are not the sheep from which they prey

Children shall not hide from the government which they elected

The wolves will cower at the deafen roar

Of the march of the will of the people

We shall wake up from this nightmare and dreams will become fate

We shall Fight! We shall win! We shall show the will of the people!