The Brigade...

Discussion in 'Fan Poetry' started by RayCaptain, Nov 19, 2012.

  1. RayCaptain

    RayCaptain Purveyor of High Culture, Aristocrat of the Soul

    Nov 2, 2006
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    In the World, Not of the World
    +421 / 3 / -10
    Wide awake, on tired feet, march of the insomniacs,
    A horde of lyrical genius and stylistic brainiacs,
    March to the off-beat of a strange snare,
    Our minds take us places others wouldn't dare...

    Dark side of the moon, edge of multiverse,
    You can see it in every single verse,
    A higher level of understanding,
    Order in the chaos of rambling...

    Thousands stomping in unison,
    Each and every one of us a hooligan,
    Out here running about like our hair's on fire,
    And if you said we ain't scary, you a damn liar...

    Mountains of tires going up in smoke,
    Stench of revolution so thick you choke,
    Music's too loud to hear yourself think,
    March forever forward, like we're in sync...

    Well-oiled machine of orderly dysfunction,
    But it's not our system that has the malfunction,
    Trampling the pavement with black boots laced up,
    Blowing the minds of all those who have graced us...

    White, black, yellow, or brown,
    You can roll with us if you can get down,
    Never speak a word that can't be sung,
    When you give it your all, give twice the lung...

    March onwards into the mysterious dark,
    For, in the morning, on our journey we embark,
    But tonight, this strange ritual, minds going berserk,
    If you go down, make sure its fighting and with a smirk...