You view my calm as lack of confidence I found solace in your type at bottom of bottle Volatile soul shall least conform to your corporate world Watch as you crumble as this ancient tongue unfurls I wish to save us all from peril But alas, I was conceived too late Caracas of my culture picked at by you corporate vultures I shall stand the granite sculpture and sculptor Chest plate ruptures upon streets Pouring blood of centuries shall never retreat I speak the truths you wish to hide As you envelope yourself with your lies Try to hide the cries of the babies, dear sweet ladies I could never let what happened to our ancestors happen again You try to a**a**inate me with your legal pen as I speak volumes Consumed with this useless prose which surrounds me You try to survive this pressure housed inside my mind The blind have led the blind for way too long The d**h of you has been prolonged for way too long So here is your f**ing three-minute pop song