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To the Fellow Travellers
I’m terrible, sinews afire from holding the horizon up
Atlas has bowed shoulders, hooded titans and officers
Incorrigible herculean effort re-routed river to cleanse stables
Flip the tables on money-lenders, hostage situation in the temple
Spake truth to powers that redraw armistice maps
Numbed out organic life-forms marching towards colony collapse
Property damage is not violence, property is theft
Fences are property, we dug a hole under the fence
Believe a ballot box initiative or conscientious consumption
Will turn the crimson tide purple, it’s better than nothing
Threw our bones on the cogs in hopes to cease production
Threw oil on the heat-source, every molecule corrupted
Audited the master class at anarcho-punk finishing school
Sat in the back took meticulous notation
Young Marx before succumbing to pitfalls of dogmatism
1st amongst equals before rise of automation
CH:
Liquefy my bones, fertilize the long night (x2)
Ideas are bulletproof and replicate like a virus (x2)
Assume a stance with a wrench or match not a meme
(That is if you can still straighten, broken knees)
60 hours a week hunched over the machine
(60 hours a week, bleed for the machine)
V2
Lit rags in mocktail, card house of spent scratch tickets
Community garden baptized with swished dregs and acid rain
Employees must wash hands before returning to wage slavery
Subordinates must hush curses before advancing on the treadmill
A whiff of the funk between the zoo and cesspool
Tools are sharper than pain, screaming backs, fed fumes
Overthrow the status quo with a slogan
A pithy distilled sentiment forever remaining quotable
Its going to take more than signs pickets thoughts or prayers
More than quirky buzz-terms or live munitions
“Spreading awareness” guarantees no deliverables
Can’t be counted on as habitat for critically endangered species
divestment a good start, put faith in Cointelpro thugs
recession-proof like vice, waste management and cancer drugs
An empty abode, shell, blight, bacterial husk
Provide a post-dystopic backdrop, for evolving into dust.
CH:
Liquefy my bones, fertilize the long night (x2)
Ideas are bulletproof and replicate like a virus (x2)
Assume a stance with a wrench or match not a meme
(That is if you can still straighten, broken knees)
60 hours a week hunched over the machine
(60 hours a week, bleed for the machine)
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