On this land we tread apon, we are not free. Thee who trashes apon this land is imprisoned in their own self explanatory rage. Thee who helps this land grow, is nothing but a servant. On the land we dream apon, nothing is as they seem. Thee who imagine happiness, aren't anything but stuck In a dream. On this land we pollute apon, trashing it's evergreens... We are all imprisoned, in this endless ball of flames.. As I crawl apon this land, wounded in the arm.. I have yet to say.. "Im free.." "Im free" "And I will have and allways will be." The moment I say that, is the moment I die, but that will not be my failure. It will be my oath, and my name's descency. This.. IS OUR LAND