Some Days I Drink My Coffee By The Grave Of William Blake

Some days I drink my coffee by the grave of William Blake

Some days, when the hour's past too late

Lost in my thoughts, where do I belong?

The London I knew is gone, long gone

The sun hangs low, the church bells toll

The clouds unfold with burning gold

When truth breaks through these city walls

Perfidious Albion must fall

This greedy, unpleasant land wraps itself in a flag

Pretending its freedom, a dictatorship in drag

The forever wars, tyrannical laws

The coup d'états with probable cause

All revealed to little more than polite applause

The sun hangs low, the church bells toll

The clouds unfold with burning gold

When truth breaks through these city walls

Perfidious Albion must fall

The agents of malice, provocateurs in disguise

Using slivers of truth to sell the biggest of lies

The lexicon is weaponized, population atomized

Information criminalized, the dissenters? Tongue-tied

The sun hangs low, the church bells toll

The clouds unfold with burning gold

When truth breaks through these city walls

Perfidious Albion must fall

By the grave of William Blake

By the grave of William Blake

By the grave of William Blake

By the grave of William Blake