The New Throne for Neda Agha Soltan Her blood flows to the gutter and he smiles to watch it go, and every word he utters only brings his nation woe. While freedom is threatened, the People "basijed", and every man alone, he's clenched today an iron fist and made Tehran his throne. Khamenei of the bloody hands - the murder-loving cleric - now rules by terror in Tehran with edicts quite hysteric: "We'll beat you, and we'll shoot you, and we will bring you grief!" Then he daintily turns and issues rulings on proper Islamic belief: "The Koran can be interpreted a thousand different ways, but nine hundred and ninety-nine of them are wrong and earn no praise! "When it comes to understanding it, only I am right, and whoever disagrees with me is looking for a fight! "Whatever Muslims today believe does not set up the norm. It's what I say, and, when I say it, people must conform! "Because I am so holy only I am free to state where virtue can be found," declares this moral reprobate. No different than Bin Laden or any other autocrat, his precious words smell worse, by far, than anything he shat. If you are a Muslim - if you hold to the Islamic faith how can you be un-Islamic? Were you placed upon a lathe and changed into something else? How could such a thing be true? "Islamic" is a word that describes what Muslims are and do. If you are Muslims, the things you do are Islamic by definition -- because they were done by Muslims. Do we need an Inquisition to find out who is most pure? A preposterous thing to say: that "Muslims" can be "un-Islamic"! Who says so has lost his way. What makes someone un-Islamic? A certain political stance? Is "Islamic" some meagre political pose in some electoral dance? What makes someone un-Islamic? A certain style of dress? Is "Islamic" no more than some fashion some fool might put on to impress? Perhaps it's a woman covering her hair? (Is "Islamic" a type of hat?) Or a basiji beating a girl in the street? (Is it really a baseball bat?) But the Leader stands and he watches, and he is quick to judge, and once he has made his pronouncements he will never budge. If you defy him in any way you're a "terrorist", simple and true, and he'll burn down the nation around his ears if that is what he must do. He must be obeyed! His every word is a thing on which we must dote! More right than kings! More right, by far, than the people's right to vote! -- The People who gather, defending the law, defying all sequestration, condemning the thieves who would pilfer their rights and shamelessly seize the nation. The most precious thing the People have - their precious voting right - their Leader has thrown in his lot with the thieves and stolen it off in the night. And the People call out and ask for what's right, defying every ban, but only the just can tell you what's right, and they're asking it of the wrong man. He's betrayed himself to all in the world - with a level of ultimate gall - as no more than a thief -- but not merely a thief -- the greatest thief of them all. And now we know better! We call out! - Aloud! We'll throw off the fetter; we'll stand with the crowd! Our voices shall rise up into the sky. "Come tell us," we ask, we shout, and we cry, "Come tell us, come tell us, come tell us," we say, "how many Khamenei has killed on this day! "How many killed and beat to the floor? How many, Khamenei, how many more? "How many? How many? And how much blood can your black robes soak-up? Can they hold back the flood?" He's proud, this man who hates most of those in his own nation; he has a darkness in his soul defying explanation. He rules with a grim intellect; he oversees the land. A leader with an ice-cold will, the nation in his hand. He smiles upon his people's pain - each drop of blood -- each broken bone. A shah without a pedigree, Tehran is now his throne. His nation is an open grave where flowers fear to bud; his people, once so proud, his slave; Tehran his throne of blood.
