Poems of Power - Ella Wheeler Wilcox:
The human wheel, that force unseen
The offspring of a deathless soul
Can hew away to any goal
The walls of granite intervene
Be not in patient delay, but
Wait as one who understands
When spirit rises and demands
The Gods are ready to obey
Take my money like an ugly beak
Covered in my mind, but too dumb to see
A Fibonacci burnin' by your jealousy
I'm happy to pull my veins out
To braid a rope, I don't need hope
To know that you'll die slow
I'm happy to pull my veins out
To braid a rope, I don't need hope
To know that you'll die slow
You are what you beat, yeah
You are what you beat, yeah
There were men of brand new parents
Didn't know it yet
So we chanted work work work
But they didn't know they were dead
Didn't know they were dead
Then the winter flew to a sick young coward
Look into then, like went on hating
? Lady, a gently apple to own by God
There were men of brand new parents
Didn't know it yet
So we chanted work work work
But they didn't know they were dead
Didn't know they were dead
Slave never dreams to be free
Slave only dreams to be king
Slave never dreams to be free
Slave only dreams to be king
You are what you beat, yeah
You are what you beat, yeah
Slave never dreams to be free
Slave only dreams to be king
Slave never dreams to be free
Slave only dreams to be king
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