I am the stone that the building refused. I am the visual, the inspiration, that made ladies sing the blues. I`m the spark that makes your idea bright, the same spark that lights the dark so you can know your left from your right. I am the ballot in ya 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`ma remain a soldier until the war is won.