Skins of snare drums smacked from sticks in balled fists while voices loop historical words run for liberation. Our lives made public by protest. Eating, sleeping, occupying the womb of the state so when capital fails, we learn to cooperate. Arms turn into steel links. Hold campouts instead of business. I brought wood for the fire in the rotunda. It will keep us warm, and Walker out..
Гуру Песен