art school anarchist you don't understand it isn't taking a stand if you're bowing down to a cosmic fraud. you seek atonement in the books that you own, you know that shelf is your altar kid. is there a reason for your sentimental streak, or have you just gone soft man? never predicted we'd practice what we preach, and yet you told me often about a prison landscape and the way they paint us in. we were nothing more than just faces in a crowd, but crowds are more than just faces, they're a fist in the face of foes. blind sloganeering, and I remember the feeling of the gas when it hit my nose. is there a reason for this instrumental breach or did you just grow up? was it is plea that took the fervor from your speech, cause it's a shitty bargain. I hope the words you shouted and the rocks you threw return.
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