Sense of something common, it's freezing in here. Same revolution. It just goes and goes, ripping back our freedom and dignity, turning it up to 11. Make 'em quit like the Brits. We don't want your empire.
Fluctuate and position, scheme and strategize, blame the game, dish the pain. Assume too much, fill in the blanks with delusions. Chew on it. Nothing will make it taste better. Days are numbered, we are in the double digits now.
The color of thin clouds at dawn. Fluorescent. Moving northeast, clearing out. Bright days ahead. Lizzy tunes about jailbreaks.
