A lighting will strike soon, 

it will, it has to. 

In a satisfying distance…it will, 

it has to. 

People with roses in between their teeth and musical reverberation on their lips will stand in front of machine guns…

And Lord will grant a pause…

We, the blindfolded craftsmen of words and stuff, will put kisses and dump those guns into illusion…in that descended silent pulse of a moment.  

Nobody’s kneeling down now…all with thumping eyes and sculptured fingers…

And then those men with dust in their chest will forget their blooded blades…and will finish those brave kisses. 

It will…friends.. it has to. 

Revolution is an addiction…

Just keep those bottled addictions ready in times of charcoaled skies.