I can still remember all the ways you used to tell me
that my melody was hopeless
and my everything was useless
and I believed my love perfect
but I've accepted what Jaree said
and I know I've forgiven her but she has not
forgiven me, yet
When the marching drums have caught up to my rambling, my love
then you'll see the last of me
when the border lines are erased by the march of time
then everyone will be free
when the currency of hate is thrown away so righteously
only then we will rise above
when the fear of god is replaced by the love of man
(or woman! or anyone!)
then we can be anything
you might call it socialism
you might call it anarchism
I just call it being in love with everyone I meet
and that's enough for me
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