The old priest considered the cast-iron oil pot sitting in the corner of the immaculate kitchen. It was heavy, and his back hurt.
The trees growing on the canyon walls whispered to him. "Prepare
... [+]
It is the end of what has been, a new exploration of what is,
What it means to be normal, free, and true; it is what it is is told to us too.
Told passively to pass on the past perception by the people in power,
Perceiving the present in place of persistent screens in a palpable palace.
Reflect, Receive, React: the cycle that so persuades us to be on the attack
Accept, Believe, Combat: defend the heart from the threats that take us back
It is what it is: To teach the helpless and the hopeless their hunch holds here.
Difference depends on direction we desire, we discover devotions to which we set fire.
Ablaze let us burn, passion and pure, energy to cure, that we may turn,
From fruitless fiction, false fabrication;
faith and freedom, in abdication.
Let this be our prayer to a divine, that we may light, that we may shine, that we may please, and they agree.
Remember the doubt and dread that was said:
It is what it is.
No.
We say it ain't what it ain't, our brick road is yellow with paint,
We ain't in Kansas no more, click of the heels and open the door.
It is what we will make it...
Go forth from here, lead lives we steer,
But know through and clear, we never let fear,
Dictate our path, or decide our premiere
What it means to be normal, free, and true; it is what it is is told to us too.
Told passively to pass on the past perception by the people in power,
Perceiving the present in place of persistent screens in a palpable palace.
Reflect, Receive, React: the cycle that so persuades us to be on the attack
Accept, Believe, Combat: defend the heart from the threats that take us back
It is what it is: To teach the helpless and the hopeless their hunch holds here.
Difference depends on direction we desire, we discover devotions to which we set fire.
Ablaze let us burn, passion and pure, energy to cure, that we may turn,
From fruitless fiction, false fabrication;
faith and freedom, in abdication.
Let this be our prayer to a divine, that we may light, that we may shine, that we may please, and they agree.
Remember the doubt and dread that was said:
It is what it is.
No.
We say it ain't what it ain't, our brick road is yellow with paint,
We ain't in Kansas no more, click of the heels and open the door.
It is what we will make it...
Go forth from here, lead lives we steer,
But know through and clear, we never let fear,
Dictate our path, or decide our premiere