IRC-Galleria

I am the stone that the builder refused
I am the visual,
the inspiration,
that made lady sing the blues

I'm the spark that makes your idea bright
the same spark
that lights the dark
so that you can know your left from your right

I am the ballot in your box
the bullet in the gun
that inner glow
that lets you know
to call your brother "son"

The story that just begun
the promise of what's to come
and imma remain a soldier
til' the war is won