They taught in school the most powerful one was the speaker
When I got older I realized that the loudness actually makes one weaker
I learned how to show and not tell
I saw that words were the cheapest thought you could sell
My artwork was stonger
And it would last much longer
Marching in protest
The words printed on the signs and faces were better than the rest
And when somebody made me angry or cry
I didn't say anything, I wouldn't even sigh
The understanding of discontent was more loud and clear
Than any ear could ever hear