more life more or less

[fledgist]

in the republic no serf fears to speak
but the bright hero need not listen hard
there are no weapons given to the weak

these are not memories that we should seek
nor are there ways that should have been unbarred
in the republic no serf fears to speak

a short bright moment's given to the meek
but all pay homage to the blonde retard
there are no weapons given to the weak

a golden statue's raised upon the peak
to honour those whom we call avant-garde
in the republic no serf fears to speak

we claim the future never could be bleak
nor your bright visage ever could be marred
there are no weapons given to the weak

the whole endeavour's safe from all critique
we do not think that anyone's been scarred
in the republic no serf fears to speak
there are no weapons given to the weak