in twenty years from now, i hope i’ll still be there disrupting comfort and fighting tyranny. this weight on my chest, is it a blooming cancer? i’d ask the petroleum industry, but they’re too busy smashing trees. i don’t want to live for a man-made inst-tution, my choices are important, my choices are real. i don’t want to die because of man’s stupidity. as air is vital it’s toxic-ness is real. i’m not a tool for your killing machine. i’ll never shut up, i’ll never give up on all my friends. my sister is not a tool for your raping machine she’ll never shut up she’ll never give up on all her friends.