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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My people love marching! Attending rain dancing parades, doing a bunch of fire-breathing talking Little drummer boys and girls playing foot soldier pretend grown up Just defending the truth, those marionette walkers will yell at you in designer protest fashion Motion activate the social activism inert solution They’re the latest vocal pawns futilely moving on the ancient chessboard Game of Thrones Signs of a flawed time, silent oppression is on a rewind Pick up a cute slogan — Be an outdated part of the next mobile generation Facebook revolution My people love to do a lot of lip walking That Wheel of Misfortune standstill discourse is always spinning in circles Chain gang rebels moving with crowd courage from Harlem to Fruitvale Still Middle Passage slaves in slow motion, making oar rows of agitated nothing Stirred up waves of invective orals will give them foot-in-the-mouth trouble Sidestepping the self-pride abuse issue, this free speech exercise marching tempo just got doubled Getting a good pace, cardio aerobic workout, screaming their lung passions loud to the gathering storm clouds Bellyaching sea sickness they carelessly flout, with waves of foot shuffling fury Glory be ... glory be Oh how my people love marching! They simply adore baton tongue high-stepping to the newest injustice tune Hand over their heart, idle thought moving float gawk partners, marching to the Italian band that’s been dirge playing since Common Error Crucifixion time Marionette zombie walkers doing the Texas two-step secession style talking Mardi Gras growling down Pennsylvania Avenue Join the stone soul picnic Rose Garden party; drink the dry whine, give a cheesy, moving toast to an uncivil era Applaud your feeble fetal foot up-and-down effort, clenched hands linked together Marching on to a vacuous victory The marionette marchers always wanna believe the empty Herod promises, that the dark past is funeral moving to a brighter future A charade parade of trotting lies has again got my people being fooled old-school Palpable fear emotions being pulled by guillotine patriotic heartstrings My people love being lied to My people love eating the sugary liberty donuts, empty hole patsy pamphlets passed out by bent-knee provocateurs of half-baked old news My people love the motion sickness lulling them to sleep Failed repetitious movement closes the teary eyes of those rocking-the-boat babies Resting their weary legs of head-scratching hope on a 400-year-old rock bed of soft maybes My people love eating the phantom American Dream cherry pie, and getting insincere, cheerful patronizing pits spit in their eye They love line stepping to the flag music ... an aching beat of hard gravel road rage reasons given as to why we're still delta taser blues Dixie suffering My people loyally love being so discourteously shoe duped Oh how they puppet love royally marching in an endless loop!
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