Synthesized cash out of raw compounds,
pressed into one shamanic denying tablet,
Where were his songs?
Where were his dance?
He was a trademarked experience
No Mother Earth left
Rejection from this garden
Rolling in shining Audi
Mating dripping off him as well tailored complexion,
Back to the rooted hands
The drum is my heart
The medicine is of the earth
The church a reminder
To never forget
That sacred doesn\'t ask permission