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and lifelong trouble with the burning fists and angry hearts of america's young is a fear of the new and the narrow outdated tunnels they see the world through.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.
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