Dilema (Rebloodlution of the Revoluvisionary)

How to preach
What I will not do
How to promote
Death, blood and lost

I’ll not send my son to war
I’ll not defend imaginary lines on the floor
I can’t fight for a flag
I can’t promote death of another lad

The more I learn
The more I understand
And I become the revoluvisionary
Everything comes to my mind clearly

We’ll advance fighting our own
Enemy front line compose of children alone
I’ll like to be a freedom fighter
But I’ll become an assassin never a martyr

Dilemma difficult to solve
How to defend without spilling a drop
Revolution requires blood to fall
Evolution means that the mind shall grow

I’ll not send my son to war
I’ll not promote killing and sore
Dilemma of the revolution ahead
How to take over, without spilling our blood

And we always will have sell outs
And we always will emphasise on our doubts
No revolution, if it means more killing
No revolution, if it means more children souljahs
No revolution, if it means spilling blood
No revolution?
But then which is the solution?

I’ll not send my son to war
I’ll not hold gun to kill the poor
I’ll not participate in increasing the drama
But then shall I allow exploitation?
Submission or revolution, grand dilemma

I don’t want to contribute to my children death
But they’re been killed anyway in the street
From gunshot and knifed down
From starvation and on the sea drawn
Trying to get to the ‘new’ world
Trying to escape from the ‘poor’ pole
Poverty exacerbate by external policies
Implemented by those who collect the profits

Submission or revolution, grand dilemma
Will I preach what I don’t do?
Who will go to war in the front line?
Is it you?
I’ll not send my son to war
I’ll not defend imaginary lines on the floor
I’ll not promote the killing of my children in vain
I’ll not allow our spirit to get insane

But Babylon needs to burn

God's Sun ©