If you’re born in America, you’re given a front row seat to the freak show.
I’m not better; I’m not different. I’m just apart now; I’m separate, because I put myself out of the mix. I don’t have a stake in the outcome.
I’m not a cheerleader for an outcome.
They say, if you scratch a cynic you’ll find a disappointed idealist.
and I will admit under all of this there is a litter flicker of a flame of idealism that would love to see it all change.
and.. it can’t happen that way.
and incremental change, it just seems like the pile of shit is too deep.