Miss Liberty turn in a Jezebel
All the dreams you go sell, turn in a hell
Her bed of roses are filled with thorns
Her righteous robes are tattered and torn
If she had only stood for love, that would have been enough
She wouldn’t have to hide in her shame
If she had only stood for love, that would have been enough
But now we all burn in her flames
Amerimacka, oh what a beautiful life
Amerimacka, is like licking honey off of a knife
Amerimacka, oh what a beautiful sight
Amerimacka, oh what a beautiful light
The land of the free built on slavery, whoa, yeah
Our consciousness in captivity
The promised land is the lion’s den
Your culture of greed has got to end
Now we’re laying in the mud, looking up above
Tear water just a drop from the sky
They try


Spike's a poet from Chicago with a very particular set of skills, and has become a vigilante who takes out purse snatchers and punks that menace society. He's also been heavily involved in the ongoing battle against ninjas and corruption. One day he discovered he had extraordinary gifts that differentiated him from normal folk and the government has been after him ever since (not really, feels good to be wanted though). Coffee snob and weapons specialist, foodie, karaoke master, and drawer of people, places, and solver of cold cases. Read More

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