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44 spikes of the locked out crown
44 reasons to get up and get down
44 passages out of Babylon
44 pigs looking at me wrong
A 44 count on the Richter scale
When the army of dread is allowed to set sail
Through the wind and hale of a hurricane gale
To the shores of the kingdom
Where my people prevail
No blood No swords No ball-heads impaled
No more waiting for the welfare check to
Come in the mail
I'm sick of seeing my loved ones
Thrown down in jail
Sick of having to beg and scrounge
To make the bail
44 spikes of the locked out crown
44 ways to keep your ear to the ground
44 passages out of Babylon
44 pigs shocked I still move on
When a man locks out its act of war
The knots are there to ward off Babylon’s whore
But if the heart is strong
And the soul cries for more
Then you can cut off your locks
Spirit the same as before
I'm keeping my roots in Africa
Remembering our lore
But working for the man is the worst kind of chore
Money covered in blood
A sight too hard to ignore
Once a dread always a dread and
Love evermore
44 spikes of the locked out crown
44 ways to whip up the crowd
44 passages out of Babylon
44 pigs scared their day will soon be gone
A 44 magnum may be the cure for my pain
Or maybe 44 needles stuck in my veins
44 was the number of my army of dread
A prayer for the 44 no longer on my head
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Compound25
I write because I experience pain and joy. Writing helps me amplify the joy and soften the pain.
I write because I am a seeker of truth. With pen and paper I loose the ability to bullshit myself.
I write and yet sometimes I feel I am not the creator of these lines. It feels as if I'm but a vessel being used to channel the prose of another being.
I write because sometimes I just don't know what else to do.
Let me know what you think and always be honest.
-Rob C.
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