3.Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes
The tangled webs they weave span from pine to ruby ridge, way
back from shay's defeat on up to gustafsen (now cue the ass
parade of ditto-heads and commissars and pricks to drown out
this fainte
Reat of commie faggot heretics). conclusion：the nail that sticks
up gets hammered down and the master's finest tools are found
slack-jawed and placid amidst the cacophony of screaming
billboard
Disney-fied history. sometimes the ties that bind are strange：no
justice shines upon the cemetery plots marked hampton, weaver or
anna-mae where federal bureaus and fraternal orders have cast
Shadows; permanent features built into these borders. but
undercover of the customary gap we find between history and
truth, the founding fathers bask in the rocket's blinding red
glare. the bo
Ursting in air. one nation. indivisible？ the truth is when the
back-country learned of ratification the people had a coffin
painted black and solemnly borne in funeral procession, they
buried it
In the earth as an emblem of
The dissolution and internment of their publick liberty.
someday, somewhere, today's empires are tomorrow's ashes.
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