NO compromises.
NO breaks.
Not until we're all coated in gold and shitting rubies in diamond toilets.
Not until Utopia looms overhead
with no chance of crashing down.
And I don't want it made of plastic
and I don't want it made of balsa wood
because we both know I'll never settle for that.
I'd rather tear it down piece by piece
all by myself
than say anything less than perfect
is good enough.
With one beyond-insane backing motivation
with these two hands
and three meals a day
I'll do it myself if I have to.
Pick yourself up
dust yourself off
shake the cobwebs out of your head
and pick up a fucking hammer.
Because right now the plans are being written
and the materials being collected
to build this Utopia
and to build a brand new day
over the sour burial ground
where we live and mourn today.