Protest The Hero

Place your justice in my palm and then I'll make fist
Punch your grimaced face until every knuckle breaks
And bleeds in resistance to my sidewalk painting
A mangled body twitching and regaining consciousness and closure
Attempting composure before a bullet in the mouth answers the questions of exposure
And God of Sunday School fa?ades and paycheques to validate the time I served abroad
It all means nothing if I forget why I'm here
To serve and protect my fist over fist mind under matter career