a view aligned so asymmetrical
I'm sorry to say, better than Mexico
How many times will how many heads roll?
a vision so fine, lost to the economy
a system in time, reaching prosperity
what is incline, without some dependency?
Marching rhymes, no reason nor serenity
I now realize, the fruit of our labor
I tell real lies, until you can't savor
another disguise is what you crave
or something refine, green, and on paper
Feel the flow, like a river drawn low
we're in a drought, no need for a boat
times are rough, no liquid to stay afloat.