Past returns with the names I have learned,

And the names I have yet to hear.

The reason I read those whom I secede,

Is because the path is not clear.

The stomps in the dirt,

And their socks in the swamp,

Have painted the pictures I’ve seen.

Ephemeral fear,

Their paving the way,

Only bolsters egalité dreams.

For Newton, and Lenin, and Trotsky, and Che

I kneel and refuse to obey

For my brothers, my sisters, my family, my friends

I press against the blockade.

And I shall never give up,

I shall never let go,

With my heart from my sleeve to my palm.

‘Til the last soul is freed

My passion shall bleed

Up to the day I am gone.