Sometimes when I, a little sad, become,
Accustomed to the tempo that you drum,
And sing along a lie of me; is sham
I hath resolve of one, and Lo of some

No time as bitter as that that thou reigned
Though only in my freedom it conclude
For I can harness my own interlude
In it I transcend spite, sully pain

If death becomes of me assailed by you
Yet undefined in life or memories
My loved ones saw me real, baby, in truth

Convinced of grandeur yet your dictum fail
Plant the seeds of evil Love uproots
This for angels, for always they prevail

Thee? Card carrying devil in cahoots
Who from the cache of freedom pillage loot
But this freedom I wear now I suit