23 January 2015

Fuck Everything (or Bring Back The Old Mild Riots)

Can't shake that feeling that we've given up
Far too much in exchange for nothing
More than excuses to be unhappy

Allowing our heads to be held under water
Never let us speak poorly of this
Agreement bonded in secrecy

Smoke coming from the ground where dirt used to be
Kicked up to fight for much less
What pitiful worlds we have become

Mustering the shared strength for real change
Won't happen in time
For us to enjoy the spoils