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 Hope To Be Dead, 27/8/07
Posted: Sep 26 2007, 03:27 PM

Viva Phillippena Radio!

Group: Cobnat
Posts: 41
Member No.: 1
Joined: 17-April 06

I wake up,
Build up,
The courage I need to grow up,
My mind is mixed up,
My computer I need to setup,
I donít want to blow up,
Over the shit thatís coming out of Europe,
I want to do a push up,
Then I realise Id rather have some syrup,
There is too much shit on the floor that I need to pickup,
I turn on the television to do some watching,
All I see is reporters telling,
About people killing,
About cops chilling,
About soldiers shelling,
About intestines spilling,
About big business stealing,
About society falling,
The fuckers keep smiling,
All they are concerned is if we are buying,
The shit they keep on throwing,
But they donít give a fuck about us struggling,
We have to keep smuggling,
Because we get no funding,
In the end we have to keep on battling,
Because the only alternative is dying,
I have lost all feeling,
I leave the room,
I am sick of the shit about gloom and doom,
I grab the vacuum,
I need to exhume,
These fucking thoughts that loom,
Making me think that I will be in my tomb,
At the end of the day,
All I got to say,
Is that it seems like the world is full of two people,
Those who obey and those who betray,
Make me wish for a global Pompeii,
There is no freedom that people want to portray,
Have no choice but to stay away,
Until payday,
My sansei,
Keeps telling us that someday,
We could write a screenplay,
For whom we write it for?
I donít want to become a savoir,
For those company fucks who want more,
Money so they can please the whore,
But no one can say for sure,
The question that we always ignore,
If the money they make would go to war,
Best to keep your ideas ashore,
Because information is a weapon,
And a massive burden,
It corrupts people and makes them barren,
It makes them easy targets for the information famine,
All the while the shit becomes rotten,
While we are told who is the next big villain,
But in the end it will only worsen,
If we let go of all reason,
Then our minds will become like a prison,
We should let go of this impotent rage,
Because no matter how much time passes by,
It will never age,
It will only consume and leave us dry,
We cannot win or hope to achieve,
For the world we perceive,
Will only leave us to grieve,
Until our conscience we relieve or retrieve,
Or until we are lying on our deathbed,
Our only hope to be dead.

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