504 --- Street
New York City
Is the sky blue? Still beyond the grave you defend its redness.
Where clouds drift over mountains, blood reigns over the land of
snow. Vultures peck at human remains and sacred stones lie in piles
Before the Cultural Revolution floods and famine, bowing
heads, sinking feet in mud, society crumbling, dead babies up in
arms. Chairman Mao your steady hand and heart were in need, drastic
measures were called for.
Chairman Mao living in past military feats, again you commanded
attention. The ego is endless in its desires reliving old and worn
tapes of grandeur under the guise of the peoples protector. Flapping
your wings loudly, the great flag of communism, loud and red, read
this I am your religion, just try getting along without Mao. Over
the border soldiers carried your portrait from the floor to Heaven's
ceiling. Son of Heaven, Son of a gun into Tibet.
Return to the motherland, milking it for what its worth, liberation
from whom from what? Empires need enemies to exist real or imagined.
Has the world not seen blood reign over the land of snow. Is the
sky blue? How far we go to defend its redness. Turning yourself
round and round again in a grave where the silence is deafening.
Chairman Mao when will you rest. When will the world awaken.
here for Biograph.