My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Reflections beam on wide screen streams that casts long shadows upon our dreams, as crews called news exchanges views, puts dirt on face of fake’s disgrace.
Our conscience toils from emotions broiled in half baked fakes of dangling bait, in twist and turns of truth’s discerns these fakes are sold as false concerns.
Issues invalid are turn to ballads that pull on strings of heart, and lyric’s tunes just form balloons inflating sound bite’s part.
Hyperbole of things to be exaggerates thy fear’s debates and whispered words of great despair ‘bout ruse in clues of new stain flu just distance mind’s discerning.
Worry not of themes and mobs as time ‘twill come that silence plots, cus kingdom come God’s will be done from which no one can turn nor run.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Questioned votes denote thy cloaked obscuring counts and tallies, yet those betrayed by such displays disowned defeat from follies.
Such crimes of times are worth of fines and time in cell block prisons, yet use of ruse just gets confused with who’d stole rights to winning!
Untruthful scathing tongues succumb to birthing claims of verdicts, and ballot’s lauds about these frauds are swept beneath concerning.
These talking heads of those who’ve said they’ll judge all those deserving, in land of free what claims by thee could spew such words unworthy…
What hope can be for land of free for those who’ve choose enjoining, facades affairs without a care like thief in night purloining.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
This figure head who’s mind is dead is past his time for learning, and masked pretends can’t hide thy sins nor puppet’s strings of duree.
He’s put in charge of disregards to end of war’s long journey, yet no concerns for hoped returns or lives t’were lost in hurry.
Who can hear the cries my dear of mother’s loss of daughters, or fathers heart t’were blown apart from son’s who followed orders?
They’ve only seen the hues of green in rolling dice on soul’s obscene, yet day will come when soulless one’s ‘twill own the crimes from shots for dimes.
That day will come when guilty ones twill enter plead of 1st degree at end of long road’s journey, and in the end they’ll own thy sins and loose of life returning!
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
If claims can maim defrocking fame and setup snares without a care who’ll fair as chargé d’affaires of lairds of land absent a plan?
Without a care or ruffled hair from questioned pointed fingers, what can sustain from world’s insane and brainwashed minds from teachers?
In land of free who’d fail to see that power’s become a drunkard, and laying banes and claims that framed when fools succumb to hunker?
Or call em out in fisted bout and show em you’re a puncher, cus innocence in land of free should make no sense of self defense nor have no need for bargained pleas.
As innocence in claims of sins should need no rinse of false pretense, but guys who hide in fake’s disguise should recognize the rising tide.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Of persons noted for egos bloated what’s valued from thy words, in statements made from clown’s displayed what truth disclaims absurd?
Tis scolds berates and numbered spates in words from tongue twill weigh the sum in kingdom come of soul as measured worthy?
When ownership’s contrived divide exposes brown on noses, those who’d choose to just abide in propagating lies worldwide will be exposed for all to know in naked stance as freedom’s foes.
These bold faced liars who’d shuffled feet committed acts of planned deceit, when truth be told they’ll be exposed and all will know of words untold.
In story told of life behold thy acts and words define ye…Tis story told in love as gold subtract thy weight of earthly, and totaled sum in measured one be that of one called worthy!
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Politics and new’s depicts collaborate with many tricks, and techno suave savvy pricks apply their data from eyes in sky to better know our reasons why.
Yet fear not of these woes from foes or those who walk on tips of toes…As brilliant minds were God’s design to be applied for all mankind…
Such fools lay claims to having brains which have obtained thy thought of train and boost aloud of something proud, that tells the crowds that God gave them the answers.
Some loose their way, become dismayed in measured worth or girth on earth and some can’t hide their foolish pride inside and seek out prey like panthers.
In all to be what can one see in limits of thy sight, of shapes and traits and strong debates what hides behind disguise?
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Empowered drunks that pull such stunts can’t hide from foolish pride, as politics and dirty tricks twill pock mark face from blemishes and leave thy scares of “brides to pride” absent of story’s glory.
If we allow such represents to call the shots of false pretense and take the wheel that drives the ship then we’ll deserve what comes of it!
Leadership should have a grip for and by the people, as history notes of sunken boats t’were sailed to shores of lands no more by crews of foolish sheeple.
If freedom rings then we should sing aloud and from the rooftops, and cease refrains in viewed insane by those in charge at laptops!
Our county tis of thee, must take baton from demon’s breed or allow the winds of poisoned seeds to take up root in land of free.
Regain control, don’t pay the toll that funds relinquished rights, make proud thy crowd that’s disavowed in duties of a nation, remind thyself of manes that pained and scripted revelations.
Michael Chaffee 10-24-21
Reflections beam on wide screen streams that casts long shadows upon our dreams, as crews called news exchanges views, puts dirt on face of fake’s disgrace.
Our conscience toils from emotions broiled in half baked fakes of dangling bait, in twist and turns of truth’s discerns these fakes are sold as false concerns.
Issues invalid are turn to ballads that pull on strings of heart, and lyric’s tunes just form balloons inflating sound bite’s part.
Hyperbole of things to be exaggerates thy fear’s debates and whispered words of great despair ‘bout ruse in clues of new stain flu just distance mind’s discerning.
Worry not of themes and mobs as time ‘twill come that silence plots, cus kingdom come God’s will be done from which no one can turn nor run.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Questioned votes denote thy cloaked obscuring counts and tallies, yet those betrayed by such displays disowned defeat from follies.
Such crimes of times are worth of fines and time in cell block prisons, yet use of ruse just gets confused with who’d stole rights to winning!
Untruthful scathing tongues succumb to birthing claims of verdicts, and ballot’s lauds about these frauds are swept beneath concerning.
These talking heads of those who’ve said they’ll judge all those deserving, in land of free what claims by thee could spew such words unworthy…
What hope can be for land of free for those who’ve choose enjoining, facades affairs without a care like thief in night purloining.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
This figure head who’s mind is dead is past his time for learning, and masked pretends can’t hide thy sins nor puppet’s strings of duree.
He’s put in charge of disregards to end of war’s long journey, yet no concerns for hoped returns or lives t’were lost in hurry.
Who can hear the cries my dear of mother’s loss of daughters, or fathers heart t’were blown apart from son’s who followed orders?
They’ve only seen the hues of green in rolling dice on soul’s obscene, yet day will come when soulless one’s ‘twill own the crimes from shots for dimes.
That day will come when guilty ones twill enter plead of 1st degree at end of long road’s journey, and in the end they’ll own thy sins and loose of life returning!
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
If claims can maim defrocking fame and setup snares without a care who’ll fair as chargé d’affaires of lairds of land absent a plan?
Without a care or ruffled hair from questioned pointed fingers, what can sustain from world’s insane and brainwashed minds from teachers?
In land of free who’d fail to see that power’s become a drunkard, and laying banes and claims that framed when fools succumb to hunker?
Or call em out in fisted bout and show em you’re a puncher, cus innocence in land of free should make no sense of self defense nor have no need for bargained pleas.
As innocence in claims of sins should need no rinse of false pretense, but guys who hide in fake’s disguise should recognize the rising tide.
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Of persons noted for egos bloated what’s valued from thy words, in statements made from clown’s displayed what truth disclaims absurd?
Tis scolds berates and numbered spates in words from tongue twill weigh the sum in kingdom come of soul as measured worthy?
When ownership’s contrived divide exposes brown on noses, those who’d choose to just abide in propagating lies worldwide will be exposed for all to know in naked stance as freedom’s foes.
These bold faced liars who’d shuffled feet committed acts of planned deceit, when truth be told they’ll be exposed and all will know of words untold.
In story told of life behold thy acts and words define ye…Tis story told in love as gold subtract thy weight of earthly, and totaled sum in measured one be that of one called worthy!
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Politics and new’s depicts collaborate with many tricks, and techno suave savvy pricks apply their data from eyes in sky to better know our reasons why.
Yet fear not of these woes from foes or those who walk on tips of toes…As brilliant minds were God’s design to be applied for all mankind…
Such fools lay claims to having brains which have obtained thy thought of train and boost aloud of something proud, that tells the crowds that God gave them the answers.
Some loose their way, become dismayed in measured worth or girth on earth and some can’t hide their foolish pride inside and seek out prey like panthers.
In all to be what can one see in limits of thy sight, of shapes and traits and strong debates what hides behind disguise?
My county tis of thee, took shots to head in sixty-three and passed baton of liberty to demon’s creed for things to be…
Empowered drunks that pull such stunts can’t hide from foolish pride, as politics and dirty tricks twill pock mark face from blemishes and leave thy scares of “brides to pride” absent of story’s glory.
If we allow such represents to call the shots of false pretense and take the wheel that drives the ship then we’ll deserve what comes of it!
Leadership should have a grip for and by the people, as history notes of sunken boats t’were sailed to shores of lands no more by crews of foolish sheeple.
If freedom rings then we should sing aloud and from the rooftops, and cease refrains in viewed insane by those in charge at laptops!
Our county tis of thee, must take baton from demon’s breed or allow the winds of poisoned seeds to take up root in land of free.
Regain control, don’t pay the toll that funds relinquished rights, make proud thy crowd that’s disavowed in duties of a nation, remind thyself of manes that pained and scripted revelations.