by Zamounde the Footstepper

Zamounde the Footstepper

Let no one doubt
That in this world
There's only room for so many pearls
So many boys and girls
Educationally denied a possibility
To achieve something besides a pipe dream
A hand full will do for the cream
Exceptionally some may endure the scheme
But to no avail will they fall out of character
Nor change the theme

Capitalism to democracy
Money and politics will not separate
Some where in between's the answer
One needs a slave
The other a common wave
An ignorant of the game being
Who will without choice or knowledge
Line up by the dozens
>From everyone to the last cousin
Feel it's undeniable sting
As the engine's continuous unnecessary change
Destroys and even rearranges everything

Without concern for earth's conditional results
On our intelligence insults
Are daily made
While politicians lie to our face
The future they disgrace
So elegantly in November
They ask that we not remember
Their hooded past

The votes made under the shade
Of the hypocritical ass
Where even the elephant
Cannot breathe truth through its trunk
The entire house smells of a skunk
Fails to take up the real issues
Still playing the democratic game
A dog will never reveal the hidden bone
We'll have to retrace his steps
Hide so he thinks he's alone
And expose the marrow
And spread it quick like a sparrow

Ever notice how the bus
Never runs too far for us
To those places devoid the city dust
On outskirts of the hidden crust
We're held back even if with wheels
By real estate deals
Red-neck squeals
And hunter kills
Dependent on stores
When the games in the field

Where are the candidates
That represent the lost
The presidential spot at all cost
A goal to the public has yet to be sold
Our patience is getting cold
Why join a party
That uses us a last resort
Makes a mockery of our churches
And too damn afraid of our temples
That will never deal with the vex
Or celebrate the likes of Malcolm X
With a holiday
Let alone change their way

The mule's  pullin' shame
In the place of the last
I saw in the mirror a true democracy
But on the flip side in reality
I see hypocrisy
In order for some to be on top
Many have to suffer and bleed
Will our growth take place with a bad seed

To not take care of our own lies the deepest hypocrite's
The CBC's on the top bunk
But from their work we smell no funk
We hear no noise
No threat does it poise
Still our soldiers are toys
But history's in our face
With the future on the plate
F' the racial debate
"Guess Who's Comin' To Dinner"
Still too busy tryin' to be color
When MAN's
Just waitin' for the earth to shake
For the sleepers to awake
How many centuries will it take
To hell with democracy
If it continues to be a hypocrisy

Democracy-Hypocrisy by Zamounde the Footstepper

© Copyright 1998. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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