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Friday, February 27, 2004
. . .
Round, Round,
Circumventing circuses,
Lamenting in protest,
To visible police,
Presence sponsored fear,
Battalions of riot police,
With rubber bullet kisses,
Baton courtesy,
Service with a smile
Beyond the Staples Center you can see America,
With its tired, poor, avenging disgrace,
Peaceful, loving youth against the brutality,
Of plastic existence.
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.
Round, Round,
A rush of words,
Pleading to disperse,
Upon your naked walls, alive,
A political call,
The fall guy accord,
We can't afford to be neutral on a moving train,
Beyond the Staples Center you can see America,
With its tired, poor, avenging disgrace,
Peaceful, loving youth against the brutality,
Of plastic existence.
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.
Push them around,
A deer dance, invitation to peace,
War staring you in the face, dressed in black.
With a helmet, fierce,
Trained and appropriate for the malcontents,
For the disproportioned malcontents,
The little boy smiled, it'll all be well,
The little boy smiled it'll all be well,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
They like to push the weak around.
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