We have nothing to loose but our chains, and i feel, an endless train of cash boxes and heavy purses wrought in steel. Like Jacob Marley dragging his I'm a weary captive, bound. Mine tie me to a student loan and every rare LP I've ever found. I'm just another naive prole, with revolution of the mind, but I'd fight a line of riot police if it'd help to clear the sky.
I'm not looking for an answer, to some big scary question. A missing link to clarify it all. We take each second as it comes and every now and then some light shines down on us. Enjoy those moments in the sun.
We know Marley died a rich but lonely man and yet, its a very simple lesson we keep learning to forget, a Dickensian analogy spun out into a song, Melancholia and Marxism, this must be where I belong. I'm just another lonesome fool, with revolution on the brain, but I'd bomb the royal bank if it'd blow the clouds away.
I built a shield to block the sky, swathed in shade I shut my eyes, I wish that I had tried to take my own advice. Look up and let yourself be blinded (I wish that I had tried to take my own advice)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
