We were told go to school and get good jobs
We did just that, but we became the cogs
Why are we sweating for this machine?
This machine is broken, we can see that now
We can fix it, we know how
Let’s fix this machine from the inside out
It can be done I have no doubt
We have to stand up for our beliefs
We are the young we have a voice
We are the young we’ll make the choice
This is the chant of the discontent
Don’t despair it’s not too late
Let’s build a world we’ll appreciate
Please don’t fret not all is lost
If we don’t act now we’ll pay the cost
This rhyme is a battle cry
We are the generation
The generation of why?
The freaks don’t come out at night, the squares go home,
To sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested - Hunter S. Thompson
Front Row, Bruised Ribs, Great Night, The Only Band Ever.
The absence of light leaves only the hollow darkness behind, giving solace to hollow hearts that wander hollow streets, trying to escape nightmares that occupy darkened minds.
Have you ever had the urge to set the world on fire?
Have you ever had the urge to set the world on fire? Have you ever wanted to be the spark in a forest fire of mischief and chaos, ignited by of some kind of misguided rage filled boredom mixed with a suffocating dose of indifference? Have you ever doused those flames of agitation with whiskey until your behavior becomes more erratic minute by minute in an attempt to entertain yourself at the expense of those around you? No? I guess I’m just an asshole then.
“Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting ‘Holy shit…what a ride!”
- Hunter S. Thompson (via layersoftheholocene)