I find myself in the back of the bus again
Scribbling bumpy lines to pass the time again
And I'm feeling like joining the ranks of the indelible and indecipherable
The esoteric symbols and names of the latest phase
Those with enough passion to feed their protests
Pointless and otherwise
And there is a small sanctuary found in the youthful ease of steel toed boots
Worn bright and arrogant
Ready to shitkick the world
And there is cool comfort in the company of those
Who still have the energy and naivete
To believe that they can change the world
Before it has the chance to change them
And though I still tend to be a proud member of a limited breed
The enraged vigilantes for beauty and civility
I am aware of all the cocoons I have sprung from
The countless daily concessions I make to compensate for my cosmopolitan cravings in this instant's society
But I still manage at times to muster the spark to design a few signs
Walk a few lines
And in flashes that seem on occasion to be
Duller and fewer and farther between
I find the fire to fully believe
That I can create art from this ongoing calamity
Build my own future
Buy a farm
Find my rhythm and learn to drum
And finally drop
Into something greater
By dropping out of this
