I am the druid in the grove, the rebel in the woods
The revolutionary, very misunderstood
But speaking out still, I didn’t come to kill
I came to resurrect the history they steal
there’s more then meets the eye when the sun touches sky
the rabbit in the grass and the eagles cy
we can’t die, if our words are still quoted
that’s the power of the mc, the bard, and the poet
the power of memory, past is present-tense
and I can see down the centuries, all the evidence
of the most colossal crime since the birth of time
the destruction of nations, it would be hard to find
a worse way for humans to treat one another
then a system like this where we consume each other
and I remember the way things used to be
when the earth and the people both lived free

I am a celt, the son of the moon and the stars
The rebels in the mountains, the poets and the bards
The will to cry freedom and call down the gods
& prevail in the end, against all odds

I speak to the trees cause they know how to listen
This music goes deep, to the first rhymes written
ya see - Rhyme is memory, distilled,
To help folks with nothing, build
From the limerick game to the rap hall of fame
all around the world it remains the same
rhyme & reason, inextricably linked
cuz rhyme was invented to make people think
Remember and reflect as my words reconnect
While ya’ll rhyming for a paycheck, comin out ya neck
Use your cranium, the word skull means sky
‘cause the sun that shrines down enlightens you and I
We could fly if we wanted to, the world is open
And I’ma cry if I want to, my heart is broken
the gun is still smoking, as the strength of man fails
We had a different existence when we lived beyond the pale

I am the whisper in the wind, the ripple in the grass,
The chill down your spine as time rolls past
I am the shadow on the moon, the sound of the trees
The scent of the spring as it floats on the breeze
I am the frost in the air, the sun on the snow
the music in the water of the river as it flows
the salmon in the stream, the oak in the grove
The acorn on the ground as it sprouts roots and grows
the white stag fleeing from hunter and
the hunter himself who represents man
mortality fleeing because life is fleeting
But life is eternal, which is why it has meaning
Death cannot hold me, I am sun I am earth
I am helpless but powerful, a treasure whose worth
Defies all measurement, subsumes all counting
the darkness eternal in the roots of the mountains

I am a wave on the ocean
I am the roar of the sea
I am an ox of seven exiles
I am a hawk on a cliff
I am a tear of the sun
I am a turning in a maze
I am a boar in valour
I am a salmon in a pool
I am a lake on a plain
I am a dispensing power
I am a spirit of skillful gift
I am a creative god giving inspiration!
Who else clears the stone of the mountains?
Who is it who declaims the suns arising
Who is it that tells the sun where to set?
Who brings cattle from the house of tethra
Upon whom do the cattle of tethra smile?
Who is this ox?
Who is the weaving god who mends the thatch of wounds?
The incantation of the spear, of the wind!