Empty Faith

The value today is in word, it'll have you deferred,
From compassion to nerves, and from happy to hurt,
From laughing to the verge of perpetual curse,
Tapping the worst of the well that is Earth.
Language is worst, they ask ''what way you do verse''?
I say "How do you heal the universe, when text is your myrrh?"
Lexicon churned, technical first, perspective is chief,
assertions of sin while starving children don't eat.


But love is another, an exceptional hugger, a perpetual lover,
A proficient debugger, something to discover.
Revealed in a mother, a father, a brother,
Run from the haters to the cover - give while they smother.
Cause compassion for another is the thumb that we're under.
Remove their conditions and just drool at the wisdom.
Ghouls in their mantra, ghosts in their living,
they say "the metaphysical presence will do all the giving!"
But there's something missing. Tell me you dont feel it nipping?
That's a sign that lifting is better than talking or spitting.
Give and deliver, feed the convalescents, hug the peasants,
shrug off the weapons - the word oppression - the acid river.
Show attention, and make sure you ask the f***in' questions!
Cause it's hardly a real life if you're only guessin'.

yeah..its true what they say..wise keeping strength at bay
''cause you cant shape your own fate..when destiny's in play
living for tomorrow in the shadow of today
taking the risks and keeping the faith as you pray...
n' its amazing how time keeps flipping by
lonely roads and lonely walks got his life span ticking by
ripping flights, so his life's wings won't be flipping high,like crippled flies
got him hyping hi, at past hommies doings in his memories
laughing in parties but keeps gloom'n at his miseries
reflected in the paper pages of his diaries
heart flicks and love hurt flicks
first through last girl claiming they leaving half sick
at his addiction to white powder n' staying high from hard drinks
got him changing faces like somersaults and back flips
sack him from his job so he'd be feeding from the backstreets
trash tracks and trash bins, like mad boys and mad pimps..
and still keep the faith like living for the day
wish for a little peace 'couse tomorrow's another day
like hope for a difference when the standard is the stalemate
letting fate be the judgement and the outcome the achievement...