They put a choke hold on his whine pipe.
Took his sharing to the enth degree.
Stretched his Savoir faire.
Like they didn’t care.
He was broken, it was sad to see.
Then he rose up, off all fours.
A maneuver that would open doors.
He would live, thankfully.
He would let the beggars see.
That crying doesn’t work.
Cause in every sob there lurks
Alot of proof that jerks
Have us surrounded.
It’s time we found it…
The strength that lives inside
Where fears and hurt collide
Where the weakest you has died
And set the strong you free.
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