You’re surrounded by thieves in hats, tees and jeans. A match lights where your crew leans. Yellow mane styled in wax, some prince glowing in the dark marks our tracks. You're a lion when the sun sets, swift and strong without regrets, and your pride breathes in your steps.

    High intensity neons greet where beats flow through an elite on a street. A tatted youth pushing and shoving for room. Little child, carrying deadly signs and mottos of doom, you've been blastin Jay Z and BK all wild, but your watch isn't twelve anytime soon. You're just highschool karate under the shine of the moon. A hungry heart. A glowing start. You aint quite in New York but one day setting out without fear you'll make it anywhere.

    Standing out in the crowd in fights, all my friends are Romeos and knights, waiting for starfall shoulder to shoulder beneath the dustland heights. Above a club a light, fizzling in all white. It flickers a bit to meteor showers. A lightshow above the flowers. Bursting sidewalks. Walking the talk.

    An entrance shoots lasers into flying, and out flows a song of an ending world all mixed with lying. At the corner of Patagonia and twenty one a starlet is crying. She has the world in the palm of her hand all death-defying. Carrying to save humanity, how do you feel. And you kneel like a romance is dying.

    A windless whim admits evil sears and she asks amid tears, will you deliver the nation from its bond. Salvation lies in there where your Kingdom has corrupted and grown fond. We held hands midst the surging seas. Where a model swirls around a pole on a purple scene we slip between. Sifting through smoke by coyotes on coke when the music stops the chorus is shout all the way out. We raise her banner to fare through the hulking air when heated lamps summon a sun on a stage. A mingle of phones has a storm of torches shone into welcoming a new age. Rushing through our veins is broken chains - the mother of exiles.

    While all awake are not there for her sake. A Challenger pulls over by an army with rebel flags. Where they rally in rags headlights wash the crossing of life, a super clean cat passes without strife and a crow leaves a powerline with a fife when a sudden wind flows downtown with danger. Inside the heat swelters stranger to stranger:

    we make out in a wardrobe where no one will find us fly, only peril will pass us by, and when you let go the touch of your cherry lips suddenly hurts. A line's formed a ring of shorts and skirts. Fondling dust between hands, there are no other bands, no other lands. We are the tempest-toss'. Some guys push us across. Skeleton suits, metro cuts and hands with jagged rings. Counting down to the beginning of all things, to engage video game style, a type of violence so almost admiring. And we brush dirt and vile, yelling firing; all you have, is your shame, no one will remember your name. And it stings when a baseball bat swings. Senseis and rats are rolling out to kill. They're a long way for a little thrill. And some will sleep well tonight because we danced under the starry night's lights.

    We're all stars walking in under those flashes, raised in the fame they say we're features of a flame, we bolted freely under a summer rain, wondering, will we remain the same. We're so far up in this bracket sometimes when the sky drizzles a bit from the pain, you have to straighten your jacket. We awaited the morning to walk against the horizon. We're the patriots of Lexington and Concord.