There are two pillars pied that hike a trail of appellations back
Where June now stood one foot on the grass and one on the tarmac
Come let us sow our dowered soil, draw harrowed audience
…They crowd only by force of vote and force is violence

They just want shelter; some have never known a home
But to even learn you must endanger what you already know
When I'm inside those wuthered heights, I must play the part
But when you hear me speak as them, don't lose heart

Just a while, until we earn our own keep
They guard the way, but soon we'll hold every keys!

They laud your pen 'til when it threatens, how they pay the bills
When truth's not common cause in dialogue, it's just a war of wills
And that trail's cleared in Abel's tears, Remus-wounded-knee on Apalachee loam
I loath it too, June, we'll emend it soon, for now feign along
To fawn amens, Annona render, with fealty unto state
They'll vest us Aegis 'tis how love may age us grey!

Toe the line
And with fingers crossed kiss the ring
Feign a bow
And at night we'll howl proudly

(Cancer) But they’re like crabs around our feet who think us weak when we don’t trade in sand
Their eyes aren't real in their sight unless the light of many eyes holds them exalted
But they’re like crabs around our feet who think us weak when we don’t trade in sand
Their eyes aren't real in their sight unless the light of many eyes holds them exalted

But they’re like crabs around our feet who think us weak when we don’t trade in sand
Their eyes aren't real in their sight unless the light of many eyes holds them exalted
Where “He of Sedge and Bee” pretends his honey comes from a dead bull
You tried to dress me up, present me at a ball
But my savage manor made ’em gibe and jeer in snickered protocol
My parents taught me to befriend the lowly and the weak
But that sycophantic lot plots I ought earn the favor of their elite?!
He was "Boyo, may freedom burn in you a reckless wrawl!"
That part of me will never tame, or be contained inside of shame or wall!

Cowards!
Vassel fame; decorating leashes
Slaves enslave in a mana-bread and circus!

Born unto a stage they hone the cadence of a joke
But don't know why they’re laughing
Their god of noble lie, vox populi, fears sovereign eyes
So how can our love burn where fire's frightening?
For a plot of land you'd clip your claws, feign civil pedigree, file down your teeth
The Queen of Open Wood, pride-of-the-pack, danced manic moon
Now to beg for treats, and beg to speak in portrait seats in online ballyhoo
Panopticon-domesticated, paint the locks, let fame of state-and-title shave your mane
But I can't hide my claws!