I am the stone that the builder refused/I am the visual, the inspiration/that made ladies sing the blues/I am the spark that makes your idea bright/the same spark that lights the dark/so that you can know your left from your right/I am the ballot in your box, the bullet in the gun/the inner glow that lets you know to call your brother ’son’/the story that just begun, the promise of what’s to come/and I’m-a remain a soldier until the war is won
