50 stacks of20 ones sits on my back.Holy smokeI can’t breathe.desperate.bleeding.we’re all leaving.Little stones they press downbut I will tell my story.Stop the world in it's tracks.Have you ever felt your ears bleed?All the textbooks in the fire.The winner yells his story.the loser goes home.Home.Home is a place that you left at 16.It’s where your heart is.That much I believe.In the end though...Do we have to side with the victor?from the fall of Greece, to the rise of Rome.Roam.Roaming this world with an atlasshe’s a bruise.he’s a black eye.50 stacks of paper on the police desk20 filled with lies.Look arounduse a sole.Are you diamonds or Coal?All you charcoaled people please raise a hand.Let them hear you.Tell them why.



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