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to be silent even though it might hurt our ancestors, our sons and daughters to I feel the fangs of dogs ripping their shirts the hoses of hatred drowning our roots the hats we wear those imperial crowns will silence doubt and reveal our lessons to fight on both legal and sacred ground the art of war with non-lethal weapons should we stand still and simply bow our heads believe our woeful lot better than some let us not pause to weigh what they have said spirits of freedom might deem this loathsome their words, their blows will forever be flung we of color must never still our tongues