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Skies are wrought with storms of soot, and sweat, and pain; The wrath of industry. Look outwards…See them build. Footprints across the sky; crying foul poisoned tears. Rein nature to nurture. Onus Refuge.

…and that’s the way things go; build a world that thrives in bleak estates and common causes. We have learned to live in a house ransacked and hollow. A joy that can quickly turn the curse. The white walls we build today become our gray Bastille tomorrow. Nous comprenons la Nature en lui résistant. Resist it. Resist.

With coal as dark as night, we harness the power of the sun and use it to blacken out the sky.

To secure their wealth they fall in line with plundered lives, with fettered arms, and shackled legs and broken spines. As crimes bereft of standards gain, they’re not the worst that man has made.

We gorge on slavery; our greatest import.
Malignant pride soils what was built in modesty.

Lowering black clouds press down naked shoulders. Oceans crossed for this. Build, breed, break, seethe, this is what it feels like to dream, dream, dream.

Oh Say, can you see, can you see that there is no American Dream. We can do better than this.

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