Chuck Ragan

Where are the ones who carry the guns
to the far away lands with the blackened suns
from the smokened narrow minds.
The half-truth trails and the holy lies of an empty heart
and overflowing mouth,
a plastic smile and a cowards frown.
Reprecussions come around
when the word named free burns to the ground somehow.
Where are the deaf and where are the dumb
from the side of the tracks where no reason comes from
and the tables never bare.
The water runs and momma's always there
so separates the world from the with such words
and such words would cause a shot heard round the world.
A justice that never hurt at all.
So down down down like a ball of flames,
to the rotten core filling up
with names of hypocrites what a massive list,
don't exclude yourself from it.
Don't compromise administration lies carried out
and covered up with time,
carried out and turned around to shine.
High on a pedestal of broken lies.
The passion speaks loud for itself falls on broken ears
and off the value shelf
into the dirt left to the wind.
Coming up strong ready to begin to obliterate the word
from the start with such ideas
come and such ideas cause a spark that will set a blaze
and leave the embers red until the end of days.
Where are the ones who carry the guns to the far away lands
with the blackened suns from the smokened narrow minds.
The half-truth trails and the holy lies
of an empty heart and overflowing mouth,
a plastic smile and a cowards frown.
Reprecussions come around
when the word named free burns to the ground somehow