Muwanguzi David [Create in me a clean heart,O God]

So this guy comes up to me and says, "what's the vision? what's the big idea?" I open up my mouth and the words come out like this... the vision is of an army of young people. You see bones? I see an army.and they are free from materialism- the laugh at nine-to-five little prisons. they could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday and they wouldn't even notice. they know the meaning of the matrix, the way the west was won.they are mobile like the wind. they belong to the nations. they need no passport. people write their addresses in pencil and w o n d e r at their strange existence. they are free yet they are s l a v e s of the hurting, dirty and dying.what is the vision? the vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. it makes children laugh and adults angry. it gave up the game of minimal integrity long ago to reach for the stars. it scorns the good and strains for the best. it is d a n g e r o u s l y pure.light flickers from every secret motive, from every conversation. it l o v e s people away from their suicide leaps-their stupid games.this is an army that would lay down its life for the cause. a million times a day, its soldiers choose to lose that they might one day win the great "well done" of faithful sons and daughters.such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. they don't need fame from names. instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!" and this is the sound of the underground, the whisper of history in the making, foundations shaking, and revolutionaries dreaming once again.