weight on your shoulders is heavy, you've been suppressing these urges far to long. you're sick of acting the right way: it's wrong for you but it's right
In My Arms All through the years you were my hero My best friend and my one companion Then we got news and my world shut down And I took care of you
time that you flew and bled and the shadows that you walk around will still be there when the sun goes down. venus fly trap, 20 years now. and the chance is
the two-steps, the goose-steps back. back from square one, from where we'd just begun, and then it rang a bell-but is this kristallnacht or what the fuck is
line. an amalgamation of jewish scripture and christian thought. what will that get you? not a fuck of a lot. take a look at your promised land. your deed is
brains you lack-anthrax) a gov't self-portrait, an evil we must face (and replace), you've convinced me that a working class stiff (but a proud one!) is
fine day in river heights, fine day for your skateboards and bikes, fine day in your cute little world, fine day for tough boys and submissive girls,
t reverse the damage done. Your knowledge is a bullet in their gun. they've taught you well, destroyed every last brain cell with their methods, 10 on 1
When all your friends agree But freedom's just hip When it's of sexuality So you hate I hope I live to see the day When your sexually repressed hatred Is
hey hannah, how's it going? can i borrow some records you punk rock piece of shit? hey jord, join the chicken-fight, is that a sub you've got in your
you the word rhetorical is wrong. these questions blur the things we need to see and simplicity beneath a song i try to make her see there is no way.
and every one of my convictions? secured and mutually reassured of our consistency. but your defence rejects what (you claim) you believe. because what the fuck is
i ever said: if a kevin kostner kavalry is your means to their end, then the struggle is dead. why do we pretend that our approval is upon what they
thought, word and deed once sloganeered, a reaction undefined, the battle-hymn, the mantra of a once unfocused mind. but as logic tempered anger, still
We are the tyrants, messengers of Satan We pledge you all raise your hands This is the solstice hail, legions arise We'll raise the roof, touch the skies
insecure as you (maybe even x2). and i wonder what you really thought of me. an intimate friend? a loud-mouth jerk or just a novelty? this is not an apology
I can do, true And if I had the choice, I'd take the voice I got 'Cause it was hard to find, y'know, I've come too far to wind up Right back where I
hello, this is jord from propagandhi here. uh, besides the itching of my crabs, i'd like to say subscribe to 4zzz don't take this for granted, eh. fuck
