We held our ground and sang it loud: “This land belongs to me!” Drunken with prosperity from sea to dying sea. The stains our existence buried deep within our past. Though history is stagnant, how much longer can they last?
(And every stone in arm’s reach cast)
We came for progress and won’t accept less
A language regressed, a language useless.
They march for nonspeak: boots on the concrete. For word monopoly, they call it Nonspeak.
Every word is free to use but some more free than not. The painful sounds forbidden and just thrown away to rot. Of many battles that we’ve won, we fear the victory. The dark chapters are yet to come in black transparency
(Grey lives of apathy)
We came for progress and won’t accept less
A language regressed, a language useless. They cry for Nonspeak. Loud and alarming. Severed the artery. They call for Nonspeak.
We came for progress and won’t accept less
A language regressed, a language useless. The quest for Nonspeak. The first one toppling. All others following. We call it...
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