From: Last_-Rites-@webtv.net   
      
   At Twenty Zero Nine   
   And Seventy Five Fourteen   
   The end is coming quickly   
   For the death of the regime   
      
   When the old man of the isle   
   Slips into his final sleep   
   There's a gale force wind a blowing   
   For the power there to keep   
      
   Tasted freedom hints of change now   
   Though hope of revolution fades   
   And the body barely colder   
   Amid the turbulence of waves   
      
   A people feigning mourning   
   In the blackness of the night   
   And the age of darkness falling   
   With continuance their plight   
      
   For nothing ever changes   
   No such power over yields   
   Which isn't taken back by bloodshed   
   Drained from wounds that never heal   
      
   And trusted officers in uniforms   
   Roaming in the downtown streets   
   Where the faded buildings of past glory   
   Wait awash in clean, unbloodied sheets   
      
   There's a storm cloud in the distance   
   And the horizon hazy still   
   But the peasants' future sharp in focus   
   Rich with neither courage nor the will   
      
      
   EP   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)