Fighting spirit

As my spirit soars into the sky.

I am lifted to the folds above your eye.

And when the moonlit path unfolds a path 

Towards me. You will be in ecstasy, baby!

And when the music begins to play.

They will strum and beat as you begin to sway. I'll begin to shake and wiggle. 

Now, you know that I'm a sinner- the fortunate one. All is left is just to be as one. There is no difference between a jew and philestine.

Pali prothetic or pathetic Greek and that's not me. There is no difference between black or white. For we all come from the Afrique. 

And destiny is on your mighty side. By the cliff side where I plunge to my death. And run from the Ottoman empire. To free my child. So, baby, please- please stop testing me before I abort you with a new technique. My style so heavy before it's apparent time that I will choke the fetus out of you before you bleed.  And the clot that will.pop.out will be Jesus in need.