poetic terrorism gone wrong and now i feel it in my blood
the things that led us to this point cannot be discussed in polite company
and once again i question the alignment of the stars
but there is a blue collar boy clouded in cigarette smoke
who promises that everything will be ok
and i’m inclined to believe him because i have no other choice
one of the voices of my generation is gone
lost forever in sleep
and on that day i saw our symmetry
as i read the paper in my shaking hands
we are all just victims of ourselves
all we can do is let our lights shine brightly
and continue with the hope that we can be redeemed
through our words or our love or our death
