many forms this beast has taken, some elegant – some monstrous.
here i stand at the base of this twisted machine- sword in one hand and wrench in the other. i’m staring upwards into its eyes once more. it’s groundhog day repeating but each revolution a slightly different time and slice of ongoing history. simply a reflection of that moment’s passions and celebrations, propelling ideas and music from a broken-ass megaphone into the ears and minds of anyone who pays heed. there have been skeletons I wanted to bury. and oh, there have been oppositions voiced and launched. but more powerful we have always been and we survive only when we bind to a common vision that we all share.
bulletproof is our only option, the bastards will always spray up our homes from cars at night when they see that we are content with our own creativity. in the end a footprint will be left and each moment is a part of its composition. all that matters is that you understand one thing… you are with us or you don’t exist to us.
this is our land. this is my dream.
the real world controls us every day but in this place we call the fucking shots.