Wallies

So this is where the future lies
In a beer gut belly
In an open fly
Brilcremed, acrylic, mindless boys
Punching, kicking, making noise.

From the cradle to the city streets
They spill out their aggression
By punching what they don't understand
And stopping all forms of expression.

Teaching each other to be men
By spewing in the street
Well now I know just what to do
To make my man complete!

Against the power of their misguidance
We must learn to fight
To be just what we want to be
Morning, noon and night.

Night is for the hunters
And the hunted are you and me
Hunted for just having
Some form of identity.

Night is for the hunters
And the hunted are you and me
Hunted for just retaining
Some form of identity.

Night is for the hunters
And the hunted are you and me
Hunted for just having
Some form of individuality.