A Time To Stand A Day To Set Your Four Year Glory
THIS is so cliche
Another anthem, another rebellion
Another voice, another battle call
A million phrases and zero content
Still it's just music after all
If all these words bred some action
We'd be living in a Tarantino film
If all these pointed fingers joined each other
They could form a million fists
The same damn words,
The same damn chords
Over and over and over again
Rhetorics and war drums
And the blankness to remain
Call it a ripp-off
Call it obeisance
It's smoke and mirrors anyway
What's inside you is what matters
The wrapping can be fun, admittedly
