Your Lips For The Cause, Comrade.
=========================

Revolution would never be
by way of bonfires and cars lit
like streaks of crayon orange
reaching the sky
scribbled by some child
proving he could color
outside the lines
with no regard
for beauty.

Revolution! I'll tell you a secret
it's in here; this hall inside us
waiting to echo with music
to be filled with words
bouncing within our
acoustically perfect hearts
reverberating against every surface
coming through this chamber
with echoes between
everyone who enters this hall;
it is the loudest bastard
who repeats and repeats
because no one else
would listen until
he screamed it:

The revolution is a simple world.
It will not come from Molotovs
nor marching; nor puppets
spewing slogans against slogans
and brand against brand
and blood against blood
and cops against cops.

The revolution is a simple world;
and it comes from your courage
to live each day as if this world
was the world you would love
when you were still pure enough
to love a world such as this one.

Revolution in our time
has meant samba dancing
by oil drums burning
and people raising fists
to point at sparks
reaching stars; it has come
to mean only simple truth
and to kiss me
when you mean to.

But if this is the end
of the revolution, then I say
kiss me, anyway
because to me
the revolution
is only
you.



-e.






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