you can't lead the punks to reason, but you can't make them
think, and lifelong trouble with the burning fists and
angry hearts of america's young is a fear of the new and
the narrow outdated tunnels they see the world through. and
where to turn, but up one's own ass where the answers are
free but shit, nonetheless.. we're used to the smell and
content with the mess because a slogan's much easier than a
second guess.. and still we water paper flowers, thinking
we've found the way for tomorrow, lest we forget: the empty
heads will always be the first to try and kill what's
already dead.
