Take the mask off.

Would you get your abortion rights and turn into a comrad?

She can hold your hand, but you must go, a woman can not be all, or everything, she got you, then nothing, just the sun burning the skin, nothing goes nowhere in the heat, all the pretty days upon her face, swings into a strange escape.

Golden Days are here!

People are people and we love what we love and do as we do, the sun knows this and so does the moon.

Together we stand, divided we won't, and let's unite my friends.