Attica! Attica!
Tyler and Marla Were Right
Everybody says they hate the sound of their own voiceBut I'll admit that I prefer mine to any other noiseSo does that make me self-absorbed or do I even have a choice?It's probably both, but I keep talking either wayIn the haze of glowing screens we pin our thoughts to message boardsDisregarding countless ideas tied upon the thread beforeAnd so we miss the irony that ours will also be ignoredAre we content to merely shout out into space?In cathedrals with stained windows people whisper quiet prayersTo a god that listens well because no one knows if he's thereBut we don't bother to investigate because we are too scaredIf there's no god, then who will tell us it's okay?All the lefties dream their jerseys will majestically ascendTo the rafters of arenas where we celebrate dissentWhere we talk of revolution while consuming all we canThe game's not what you do; it's only what you sayAnd I know how to playSo we keep our hands raised high and we all silently yearnTo be the next who's called upon to show what we have learnedBecause no one really listens we just all wait for our turnOur minds our clogged with all the things we plan to sayI've got something to say
From Letras Mania