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through the best of times, through the worst of times. through nixon and through bush. do you remember '36, we went our seperate ways, you fought for Stalin and i fought for freedom. you believe in authority, i believe in myself. i'm a molotov cocktail, you're the dom perignon. baby, what's that confused look in your eye? what i'm trying to say is that i'll burn down buildings while you sit on a shelf inside of them. you call the cops on the looters and pie-throwers. they call it class war, I call them co-conspirators. 'cuz baby, I'm an anarchist and you're a spineless liberal. we marched together for the 8-hour day and held hands in the streets of seattle. but when it came time to throw bricks through that starbucks window you left me all alone. you watched in awe at the red, white and blue on the 4th of july. but while those fireworks were exploding i was burning that fucker and stringing my black flag high. eating the peanuts that the parties have tossed you. in the back seat of your father's new ford you believe in the ballot, believe in reform. you have faith in the elephant and jackass. and to you solidarity is a four-letter word. we're all hypocrites, but you're a patriot. you thought I was only joking when i was screaming, "kill whitey" at the top of my lungs at the cops in their cars and the men in their suits. no, i won't take your hand and marry the state.

- by Tom Gabel