We tend to slow down, but we’ve grown tired of not making sound.
One voice makes small waves, and they’re easy to be misplaced.
Diagram implement; our aim is always been for an improvement.
The votes in.
We never guessed movement results in
disregard, though granted I’ve been
waiting to make my incision
To cut the work that meant for us.
Hear me; my decree…
Trepidation comes with the territory.
Tables turn in open plains.
We’ll carry on; our afflictions engrained.
A dragging search for sugar cane.
The sound we chew and we maim.
We’ll scribe our tales that won’t be read.
It’s out turn full steam ahead.
The votes in.
We never guessed movement results in
Disregard the wreck that I’ve been…
Carried by perpetuation
We’ve got our work cut out for us
I’ll admit
In a minute
I’ll admit
When I see fit
I’ll admit
Ignition seemingly brought to a halt,
By steep incline.
Endeavors will never yield without
sacrifice.
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