The Children of the rainbow sing,
In tongues audible only to those,
That have stumbled out of step.

Their multicoloured ramblings scream
Songs of detachment from normality.
Standing, in a world of forever seated souls.

Their song is heard in the cries of the revolutionaries.
The drunken ramblings of the hobo on the corner.

Those we are so quick to place below.
Deem them the clinically insane. For
Refusing to surrender their thoughts.

To the man that stands in the shadows,
Collecting the green tokens of greed.
His fists full of consciousness to manipulate.

He has confined our brains to jars of formaldehyde.
Shipped our souls from coast to coast in cardboard boxes.

How could it be that the megalomaniacs,
Are less manic than the model citizens?
It seems we have forgotten the tune of the song,

The chorus of rainbow children have been humming all along.