It riles me to be told br I must be one of the fold br who leave their homes br ever on the roam br seeking new Romes. br br How shallow they are br measured by palaces br in far away places br to foist on another br a land without a mother. br br What about my father br with all he could gather br all the world in a basket br living love in air-filled caskets br feeding his children wisdom in banquets br br I'm not done yet with my sins br seeking to get to the bottom of thins br dig up the mess from years of neglect br that I may see and soundly reflect br on the change I want to be br br Coined in new image of self br that my father may fill the earth br with blissful mirth br and tell all he sees br that's my son on martyred seas.