I speak my mind. I question theirs.
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It seems to me like no one really cares.
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Peripherally blind. Intellectually numb.
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Ignorance by choice? Or just plain fucking dumb?
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You're threatened by my mind. You want everything the same.
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But my questions still remain.
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You boycott your brain. You answer with fists.
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But my questions still persist.
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You can rearrange my face but you can't rearrange my mind.
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You can beat this shell about me, but you can't touch what's inside.
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So now who will help me bake this bread?
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Who will be the first to speak and leave complacency for dead?
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I've done all that I can on my own.
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But stagnant minds persist to squeeze blood from this stone.
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But I won't bleed for you. I have no need for you.
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Death will be the day I concede to you.
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Who will help me bake this bread?
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| Propagandhi |
