| Paper warfare in my face
|
| Is a bad omen these days
|
| My stale cigarettes
|
| Smoke haze in my eyes
|
| They never stray from the herd
|
| When they charge by the word
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| Hopeful interjection will get you nowhere
|
| They give the supermarket stare
|
| Their response is laissez faire
|
| Do they talk starvation in your economics class
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| They label you an alarmist
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| Cause you protest the clinched fist
|
| And see a desperate situation for the progress of the poor
|
| Spirits fall as batons rise up
|
| The weapons budget didn’t get cut
|
| What clever wordplay you have
|
| Better to speak lies, my lad
|
| Blind them with the truth
|
| And the lap dogs won’t snap back
|
| I know we share in the guilt
|
| For the paper shelters we built
|
| We’ve been blinded by the fears that we’ve become illiterate
|
| It’s a glass slipper that doesn’t slip
|
| A square peg that doesn’t fit
|
| Your righteous indignation prepackaged postage paid
|
| Hope for a tepid response at best
|
| As per your silent request
|
| See a desperate demonstration as you digress from the point
|
| Spirits fall as batons rise up
|
| Weapons budget didn’t get cut
|
| But my hands did
|
| Blood stained pavement
|
| They’re asking us to die for something
|
| While asking us to live for nothing
|
| How is this world so proud
|
| Mistakes allowed
|
| No lessons learned as we keep on bowing out
|
| They’re asking us to die for something
|
| While asking us to live for nothing
|
| How is this world so proud
|
| Mistakes allowed
|
| No lessons learned as we keep on bowing out
|
| No lessons learned as we keep bowing out |