There’s a burned flag hung from the rafters.
There’s a hollow rallying call.
Some insist they’re the people.
Others chime in ‘come one, come all.
Intellectuals strike from the high ground
Street judges carry their flames
Thoroughly held beliefs in the foxholes
Strip ‘em all down and they’re all the same
For a better life, or a better future, cuz you know its gonna hurt.
When two sides are marching.
No solutions, just illusions.
Visions of a changing tide.
Desperate to cling to a fusion.
Of anger, and safety in numbers, and pride.
Rotten to the core, you hate to suffer, yet you beg for more.
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