Purple is often misunderstood
People confuse it with pink or blue
They cannot comprehend change
The synthesis of something new
Purple has been picked to pieces
Analyzed with Pantone paint chip cards
The public is vexed, this defiance of sex
Twirled around by color guards
They say that violet delights have violent ends
That from this “choice,” there’s no return
But they’re the ones who set us aflame
And we, in their triumph, burn