Nickels and Dimes

The storm forges through
Through the rhymes, I concur
To the holes never seen
I am here to say that the heaven holds deep
In the minds of slaves
Slaves that refused cake
Buttered sand and made gold
Spitting plain cries, placed in burning furnace
Uh, so hot it was
That gold fled far
Leaving dust for those that thirst for soul

Thirsty throats always talk
Nothing about, they yawn
Empty threats, talking ceilings
Yap, yap
But our souls are made anew
By your every yap
Every taunt, it grows
Strength, stretching far wide
Sky, soaring high
Reaching, till we become the conquerors
Of the new earth
So yap on
Please, yap yuck
Till all there is,
is my back in sight