Concrete poured, flatten it just right,
Keep it neat and ordered, it's the way of our progressed nation,
Keep it controlled, no green shiny grass, no flowers disguising as weeds,
Pull them out, rid my streets of color immediately,
Don't let the colorful roam,
What chaos will reign against my tidy plan,
If you allow free spirits to Transcend,
What chaos will reign if feelings of Gay are out in the open,
Mingling with nature growing through the cracks in the pavement,
No, no, my small-minded need to make the world just so,
Cannot allow the green grass its freedom, the confusion of mixed flowers their minglings,
It must be ordered, ordained, religious manipulation suppressing the soul,
No cracks in my pavement I demand!

But oh, we're coming for you pavement makers, we're growing strong and furiously through your cracks, crumbling your concrete to dust, and we'll laugh as your sad little soul evaporates in our sun.