On innocent streets the pavement bears
The helpless weight of children
Dressed in golden pride, not yet
Faded by the rigors of a real winter.
So march young man.
Then follow footsteps that inevitably lead
To an ancient teat that's been sucked dry
By generations who jump in and drown,
Waiting for you to pull them out.
So march young man.
Make your sign and get in line.
For the right of every man is no longer
Strength but peace of mind, while freedom
Begs but is denied by itself.
So march young man.
Shout at the boarded up windows and doors.
Scream at the ones who can't be ignored.
March young man, then fall on your sword.
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