The English language is a hard pill to swallow

It can make you brutal and shallow

It conquers all other tongues

With all new and ol’ songs sung

It has raped and pillaged our world from within

Cutting flowers and wings unfurled with a callus din

Burning roots and blood ties

Riddled with twisted meaningless ties

For many of us it leaves an empty cave

Where should be the sound of the brave

Like a gavaged goose

Never free or set loose

Always held by a noose

With words vile and uncouth

But perhaps there is purpose and meaning

To all the slaughter

Just as the word, they call me


Born in hate, rage and fire

It will make us climb so much higher.