When the revolution comes I want to lay by your side, looking at the cosmos shifting under our new night sky, but when will our day come, and how will we fight? when we're so beaten down- it's almost hard to try. And there may be a problem when I see a bottle of molotov, and I'd rather drink it down, than have it ignite what's destroying us. As I shout WE WILL RISE to a utopian sort of perfection I was left confused with no direction.
So where will we go from here? Delusions of grandeur quell my inner fears like FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT THE POLICE AND WRECK WRECK WRECK THE BOURGEOISIE- I like to think I could muster the courage.
When the revolution comes, I'll be honest with myself. Destroy all my vices- bid them farewell. And as the new dawn approaches how can we tell the future generations we'd been living in hell? And something might be wrong when I'm too scared to bring a rifle to a protest, because all the cops have guns, and I don't really wanna die right now. As I shout WE WILL RISE I was tackled to the ground toward oppression. I was left confused with no direction.
Skyscrapers fall from the trees making cracks in the city streets. Everything for all is the economic paradigm we will bring. We'll survive the Fall and storm through heaven's pearly gates. Everything for all- we will make this our new fate.
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