this pronunciamento is simply to assert a sum
of truths self evident
transparent that show our nature
now minus the two hundred
year wraps woven to disguise
our history and ourselves
with constants which wreathe us
direct in line with troy
and the western classics positively
we have formed in earnest
sublime ideas for auld lang syne
and declared ourselves
victims of mother spain from the find
and conquest until eighteenten
when cut from the mater land
we became selfindulgent
with ideals reaching far beyond
our white mountain peaks to
a rubble heap left by greeks
in anatolia and there we
place ourselves in illion our beloved
beginnings and abeyance for
we have not glorious tales
it’s all haze to tell well
we fixed that and if someone tells
the truth about our lore
he’s branded traitor on the spot
while heroes are who
contribute to the lie it’s old history
and it could be from
anywhere thirst for royal dirt is sound
no matter if civil war or
independence call call it anything
repeat an axiom or
makeshift a brand call it a revolution
and start spinning heads
with blabber twisting dope
let’s get this right most
of the population was not represented
blacks indians mestizos and most whites did not care a bit
the whip changed hands to
the descendants and heirs to priam
along with the seized
privileges which now had a republican
aura full with blazon
colors and song they declared themselves
fathers of the land and
presented the many with a clear view
of a chief tall with a
bogus name lance in hand and his main
wife bogus two genuflected
at his side with heir apparent
in arms proud ancestors of
a lost paradise to atone and further
confuse the fuckin natives
cause that story wasn’t in their folk
‘tis so
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