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50 Their Gift to Us With our hands tied, they spoon feed us pain. We bathe in pain and they reap their gain. Yet, the cry we cry shall their songs be That’ll sing in their ears tinnitus bee. To free the free bird in us fee free To fly sky high and perch on a tree In their world they call free; free to trade As in the years of yore they did trade My kind of yore their merchandise was Their unkind heart beat and did far worse Till machines gain pricked them at conscience To show humaneness as a new science And whitewash the blood stain of their deed A deed that’s all been guided by greed And today accounts for us tied up And beaten as we boycott their shop ...

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