Letter To a Freedom Seeker

Death of Fear Manifesto / Lovers Army Remix 

Dear freedom seekers,

Soul shakers/Spirit makers

Where have we gone since the sixties? Where have all the tribes traveled to?

What have we done since the lost gypsies? Remember the ancient vibes we all danced to.

What have we lost that we cannot get back?

What prayers are forgotten that we cannot chant aback?

Humans have lost their souls.

Broken photocopy machines; ink-less, hollow balls

Who will replace the lost shamans?

Who will beat the frame drums, disperse the demons?

Who will set you free? Who will destroy your colour TV?

Who will feed your magic tree? Who will burn your precious CV?

Who will talk to the trees? Who will emerge Atlantis?

Who will fly with the bumblebees? Who will create honey-coated galaxies?

Who will provoke you? Who will charm you?

Who will wake you, who will hug you?

Who will save the whales before they save you?

Who will wave to the polar bears after they wave to you?

Who will lick your tears and assassinate your fears?

Who will whistle to your ears, wake up your sleepy teddy bears?

Who will resist the temptation? Who will hold on to the torch?

Who will accept the invitation? Who will mould your brand new sun porch?

Who will carry on the wisdom of the plants?

Who will walk on the desert with lonely ants?

Who will save you from the newspapers when we will be gone?

Who will raise the sun when it starts to go gown?

Who will resurrect Eros and Aphrodite?

Who will wake up our Cotton Princess and the Seven Midgets?

Who will charm John F. Kennedy? Naked Mickey Mouse?

Who will arm next Oswald? Deep dark White House?

Who will crucify Kate Moss and charm the skeletons?

Who will mummify the golden cross and unarm megatons?

Who will set your spirits on fire and provoke your own illumination?

Who will push your limits to ire and send your fears to cremation?

Who will erase time? Draw a new Mayan calendar? Take all the drugs?

Who will draw time, erase your Mayan calendar and keep the drugs anyway?

Destroy reason? Who will open all those legs?

Forget the seasons, who will cook all those Fabergé eggs?

Who will refuse to follow? Abuse of danger? Scream of joy?

Who will refuse to swallow, reject anger, smile with coy?

Who will make love with the ancestors? Paint new doors?

Who will create future ancestors with love, erase senseless wars?

Who will experience fear? Who will penetrate you?

Who has resilient cheer, who will celebrate Cinderella’s shoe?

Who will fly the magic kites? Who will save Icarus?

Who will try Turkish delights? Who will save the wilderness?

Who will chase for thrills? Love without fears?

Who will save the ills? No more flooding tears.

Who will kill the lamb? Who will adore?

Who will be born and die in a traffic jam, who will open your flower store?

Who will abandon the machine? Who will draw a new game board?

Who will break the routine, who will dance with the Ganesh Lord?

It might be us, dear freedom seekers, before they close the doors,

It must be us, dear soul healers, before we all overdose.

We must swallow the key and reverse destiny.

We must only follow our heart and transverse kindness embassy.

We are the children of intuition, sons of euphoria, the lovers of magical intoxication.

We are God’s exhibition, eternal exposition, “army of lovers” without ammunition.

Come with us, raise your fist to the sky and scream of joy.

Freedom Fighters have no flags, they raise themselves and enjoy.