💚

To Democracy, a Thousand

Points to the dollar Beyond this many An Air Force to absolve All that flies can be Respondent to all stimuli A stalemate in high review And enemy for the soldier What Cuba wants is respect For me and you, the dispatch of clues In eerie command of all ways In view to be, before the enemy Nature and its end Courtesy of Trump All deals are new And what bad hand for merchants We will follow and make you proud But first, let us pray Every hero is a criminal,- for curried star and rose A date to ride off as St. Peter Nights filled with tires Victory lanes for the poor And Earth at its own cenotaph Suggesting our day was annulled And if we shadow support,- This is the day we transpose And seek and under form Taking up armsmen Accruing the dollar And broke as men Nightfold to grievance And we will get what we get Meet me in November I am your trust and your hill Solemn shares to regret We have mercy but we kill And all who stay wild,- will heal at great light But sonnet men Walking with wait And bitter omen, this war And painted we knew,- to keep our space wept Ringing nightly in preference If Victory unfolds for that man,- we will settle for pain And sparse as we were By sundown our army Highest regards To that American by heart And all lasting mistakes to the basics Ready few In Cuba were men,- who dusted off the Cross And wept at the Virgin Mother For all night’s renew This is the end of our party But not in mission All Turks be to wonder And what we see is renew America without Cuba This trying deal And Earth at its ends A fail to rewar,- but what of November But Essex in view And Earth has a placebo,- calling credit When Victory can’t And lights at per diem- setting right To see you in stars And all of the great- yesteryear.