…..If we don’t get through the war, we won’t make it to the peace, to get a piece; the art of war dictates our presence in the east, cause that’s where our numbers are increased, and we can properly eat, and achieve great feats, strengthen our alliances amongst each other, can’t let the demons of my past sabotage my present, but the shit’s fluorescent, sticks out like Charlton Heston in Seti’s house, or your dad in a blouse, ouch. He better get off my couch and out my pouch before I finish this Guinness stout, and leave him forever in a drought, and that’s after I punch him in his mouth. Its war at my door, but then we settle the score, peace exist for a time being, then war’s back on the screen, as if it’s some form of evolution, but how could that be, we’re left with all sorts of contusions from the weapons we been using, I sure gave him a bruising; but now its time for peace again, the season for war will come again, next time we’ll hit them directly on the chin.