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I need to get this off my chest, too many people have asked me the same question.
Do I support the war, and Im sick of being called unpatrotic. I wrote this for these people.

Turn my mic up louder,
I got to say something.
Light Weight step it aside,
when we coming.
Feel it in your chest,
your sylicals get pumping.
People on the street,
they panic and start running.
Words on loose leaf,
she complete coming.
I jump on my mind,
I summon the rhyme of dumping.
Feeling the blind,
I promise to let the sun in.
Sick of the dark ways,
we march to the drumming.
Jump when they tell us
they want to see jumping.
******** that, I want to
see some fist pumping.
Risk something.
Take backwards yours
Say something that you know
they might attack you for
cause I'm sick of being treated
like I have before.
Like a stupid standing for
what I'm standing for.
Like this war is just like
another brand of war.
Like a dozen caded rich
and an abandoned poor.
Like they understand you
in the back of the jet,
When you can't put gas in your tank.
These ******** are laughing their way
to the bank and cashing their check
asking you to have compassion and to have some respect.

For a leader so nervous
in unobvious ways
Stuttering and mumbling
for nightly news to replay
and the rest of the world
watching at the end of the day

in the living room laughing
like what do we say?

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen

In my living room watching,
But I am not laughing.
'Cause when it gets tense,
I know what might happen.
The world is cold,
The bold men take action.
Have to react,
To getting blown into fractions.
10 years old is something to see,
Another kid my age drugged under a G,
Taking about and found later under a tree,
I wonder if he thought the next one could be me.
Do you see?
The soldiers that are out today.
That brush the dust with bulletproof vests away.
It's ironic.
At times like this you pray,
But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday.
There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads,
inside your markets,your shops, your coves,
My dad, he's got a lot of fear I know
but enough pride inside not to let that show.
I once had a book I would hold with pride
A little red cover with a broken spine.
In the back I hand wrote a quote inside,
when the rich wage war, it's the poor who die.

Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling
for nightly news to replay
and the rest of the world
watching at the end of the day
both scared and angry
like what do we say?

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen.

These times lift high
into a sky so blue
the ocean opens up
to swallow you.