Fatale Wounds Pg 4-2-04
We struggle against the power,
The people the money.
Look upon the faces of corruption, take in the hallow eyes.

The blood of the power seeps into the gutters,
Ever so slowly.
The three-piece suites stain their hands in red.

Filth, murder the innocent-
Cheney's little puppet bush
Is raping the American people for money and glory.

Sending young men over seas,
Across the ocean in a boat, a ship condemned to soon be destroyed.
Is gold and glory with all those lives?

You lied to me.
Telling me once this country was great and loving.
But its not, it's shallow and blinded with money and choking on blood

The blood split from your troops, our troops Fatale Wounds.

A.N. more to come I promise in all categories I swear.