Hands on our hearts but no patriot hymn. We pray for better days but don?t believe in sin. We are the pride and the disgrace. We sing of world?s end
take. But there?s more at stake than the nights I spent awake. It turns out I?ve got a selfish streak, and I repeat the same mistakes. Seconds, hours, minutes, days. I feel it
We play the early bird. Their schemes are absurd, buy in and get burned. We discern at day?s end we?re just food for the worms, so we work at what we
We try to decipher the truth from the lie. There were bolder lines in those analog times. Station after station, a catalog of capitulations. ?Abort