The Painter Paints His Brushes

Love Is A Rainbow Curving Down From The Sky, Falling Crystals Of Color, Shades Of Warm That Never Die.

A Protest Song Is A Song That's So Specific That You Cannot Mistake It For Bullshit.

Evil Is Done In Hopes That Evil Surrenders, But The Deeds Of The Devil Are Burned Too Deep In The Embers, And World Of Hunger In Vengeance Will Always Remember.

Call It Peace Or Call It Treason / Call It Love Or Call It Reason / But I Ain't Marching Anymore

The Truest Protest Is Beauty.