Take them to our alters and tie then down
The flames were made to take us to new places
Instead they've burnt our homes down
We're left as collective and unproductive
As much as you scream in your sleep
You'll never escape so down your plastic cup
Cry into your sleeves in bathroom stalls
The bus doesn't even stop in this part of town
They know what we've said and its no secret
I'd rather be dead than a cog in your mind destruction machine
Follow every command but never say a thing
Slip quietly away because the nights will light your way
These white walls will kill you before your ever alive
Burn us all down this is our practice now
This is the worship of falsehood and degeneration
Anarchists will get what the want
They say "No! I didn't want slow death by overturn!"
"This isn't what we meant!" as the manuscripts become tombs
Thursday, December 3, 2009
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