I'd Rather Be Flag-Burning
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The Cryptically-Entitled Mutual Friend... Deep? No.
...And We Thought That Nation-States Were a Bad Idea
The bout-as-close-to-emo-as-we'll-ever-get Song
I Would Very Much Like To See What Happened In Oka
The Tastefully Entitled Haillie Does Hebron
Remain
Just Between Friends
No Exchange
T.I.Y.
*No Title*
Sixty Billion Served
Appliances And Cars
 

The Cryptically-Entitled Mutual Friend... Deep? No.

There was nothing remotely romantic about it. 
No hand-me-down sob-stories, either nurtured or genetic. 
So what exactly did I consider so god-damned important 
that I had to shelve each and every one of my convictions? 
Secured. Mutually reassured... of our consistency. 
But your defense rejects what (you claim) you believe. 
Because what the fuck is so "sociable" 
about animal confinement, torture, union-busting, sexism and... 
isn't it strange how you don't call anymore? 

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...And We Thought That Nation-States Were a Bad Idea

"Publicly subsidized! Privately profitable!" That's the anthem of the upper-tier (the puppeteer untouchable). We focus a moment, nod in approval and bury our head back in the bar-codes of these neo-colonials while our former nemesis (ah, the romance!): the nation-state, now plays fund-raiser for a new brand of power-concentrate. Try again, but now we're confused- what is "class-war"? Is this class war? Yes, this is class war. And I'm just a kid- I can't believe that I gotta worry about this kind of shit! What a stupid world! Yeah, this is just beautiful... absolutely no regard for principle. What a stupid world. (We're): 1) born 2) hired 3) disposed! Where that job lands, everybody knows and you can tell by the smile on the CEO's that the environmental restraints are about to go. You can bet that laws will be set to ensure the benefit of unrestricted labor-laws (all kept in place by displaced government death squads). They own us. They produce us. They consume us. Can you fucking believe this? What a stupid world. 

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The About-as-close-to-emo-as-we'll-ever-get Song

I hid inside my room like a fucking coward 
and the past 18 months flashed before me in the last eight long hours. 
A little less than amazing: you finally got a rise out of me. 
So I laughed, I cried (well, I tried, but i laughed again). 
See? Who the fuck needs a caricature to be their friend? 
It's so fucking stupid. 
I'm just as scared and insecure as you (maybe even X2) 
and i wonder what you really thought of me. 
An intimate friend? A loud-mouthed jerk? Or just a novelty? 
(and, hey, do you think i could sing this a little more out of key?) 
This is not an apology. It's just therapy. 
Because as we all know (and apparently), I don't need anybody. 

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I Would Very Much Like To See What Happened In Oka In 1990 Happen Everywhere

The best thing i ever saw on tv 
was that S.Q. (Securite Quebec) cop catching a bullet with his teeth. 
Condolence, Mme. Canadiana, but your husband was a fucking (stuck) pig. 
But this song's not about some romantic account of history. 
It's not about martyrs or mythos or heroes or burnings-in-effigy. 
It's about a native kid flipping her lid
just trying to keep some self-respect intact. 
It's about an Oka the size of a fist in resistance 
and a will to fight back... 
and the girls at work, they still deny their racism. 
They claim tolerance for all. 
But it seems the degree of (only) racial slurs 
is their gauge (and it defines tolerance as hate). 
And there's 27 million "girls-at-work" here. 
Imagine fighting that for 500 years. 
And golly-gee! How valient! 
How the white oppressor makes allowance 
for calculated gestures of insurgence 
(all tightly tethered to their purses/purpose). 
Oka had this orchestra(tion) aborted. 
Oka fucked their rules to choose a future self-determined 
and I, for one, support it... 
...and the smartest thing i think i ever said: 
"if a Kevin Kostner Kavalry is your means to their end, 
then the struggle is dead". 
Why do we pretend that our approval is upon what they depend? 

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Remain

I can't believe the things that have been said 
Remain for the purpose of remaining. 
I can't believe all the things we've done 
and still we've learned nothing. 
I can't believe all the things we've done 
and I can't believe all the tears we've spent 
just to remain full of sadness. 
Those same old emotions remain. 
I Never did the things I wanted to 
or said the things I should have done, 
but there's a part of me wouldn't let them go, 
keeps them down, won't let it slide. 
Maybe next time I'll say the things I should have said. 

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Just Between Friends

"I've got my hands up her dress and it means nothing. 
It's not about love, its not even about sex. 
This time it feels like I've got control. 
At this time tomorrow I'll be able to look back and call her a slut. 
We were wondering who would fuck her first, another point for me. 
I know my friends will be so proud of me. Just between friends. 
How come they want to separate? 
They've got all the rights that me and my buddys do. 
You fucking talk about degradation. 
You stupid bitches haven't got a clue. 
We were wondering who would fuck her first, another point for me. 
I know my friends will be so proud of me. Just Between Friends." 
...When someone thinks like this and the attitude is spread, 
our dream is dead 

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No Exchange

I never promised you nothing, 
never said I'd be your perfect shackled slave. 
If success to you is measured in dollars and cents then I decline. 
That's nothing. That's not my dream. 
It comes between everything. 
Someday we'll divide because for so much effort some people starve. 
They've got everybody working for something they could care less about. 
That's nothing. That's not my dream. 
It comes between everything. 
Someday we'll divide. Would somebody here fill my soul with purpose? 
There's something here, my friend. 
Don't step on me on your quest for millions. 

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Haillie Does Hebron

you speak of rastafari, but how can you justify belief in a dog that's left you behind? you've simply filled the gap between the upper and lower class and your faith merely keeps you in line. an amalgamation of jewish scripture and christian thought. what will that get you? not a fuck of a lot. take a look at your promised land. your deed is that gun in your hand. mt. zion's a minefield. the west bank. the gaza strip. soon to be parking lots for american tourists and fascist cops. fuck zionism. fuck militarism. fuck americanism. fuck nationalism. fuck religion 

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T.I.Y (Title It Yourself)

Self-doubt, and people saying we're not worth shit. 
Talking behind our backs. 
They say we're a walking contradiction of ourselves. 
Our message isn't getting through. 
Fucker, even you got the message... 
our shitty band created a discussion. 

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*No Title*

Disregard their suffering. Spoon-fed fuck taught not to care. 
It's easy for you to think everything is okay. This is OK? 
I've never seen worse. They want what you have. 
Flaunt your privilege. You will fall. 
Do you really think your life is worth more? 
You have no idea what it's like to live like that. 
They'd love a minute to give you back that suffering. 
This life, I don't need it. They want what you have. 
Flaunt your privilege. You will fall. 

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Sixty Billion Served

Don't tell me that you say you care 
while you're fucking sacrificing nothing. 
Don't even mention the word oppression 
while you're driving Daddy's Jaguar. 
Our prosperity is their death. 
Pat us on the back, third world wallets gone. 
There's blood on our hands, 
it's your choice if you want to see it or not. 
It could change. It comes down to you. Oppression is in your pocket. 
It's all personal, it's not enough to cry. 
This time you can start by cooking your flag. 
You can stop doing what you're told. 
Don't believe what you see on TV. 
CNN reporters, they're all ex-generals. 
Democracy, big fucking joke. It's just one big capitalist enterprise. 
Smaller countries, they have no hope. 
USA crushes self-government. 
It's your choice, you could help to limit your contribution by restraint. 
It could change. It comes down to you. Oppression is in your pocket. 
It's all personal, its not enough to cry. 
This time... you can start by leaving the line. 
You can stop doing what you're told, 
because today freedom is bought and sold. Bought & Sold. 

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Appliances And Cars

This isn't business, its our hope and its our voice. 
You're not a product, so tell them you can't be bought. 
I don't want corporate backing, five hundred thousand bucks a year, 
that's not what it's about. it's something so much more. More than money. 
Dissent rolled into words, they don't belong here. 
Do you really think they care? 
This music belongs to us, it's finally something we control. 
I won't let it get torn away. It won't be torn away. 
What's the message sent when your actions contradict your words? 
I don't want to play, you can keep your quarter. 
I'll have no part. I won't stay in line or keep in order. 
Yeah, you know what it means. 
Hey, Mr. Superstar do you really believe we think you care? 
You think you're saying something? You're saying fucking nothing. 
Your message is killed by the paycheck in your hand. 
It's already hard at work as your capitalist machine destroys. 
What's the message sent when your actions contradict your words? 
I don't want to play, you can keep your Quarter. 
I'll have no part. I won't stay in line or keep in order. 
You don't know what it means. 
To me the message is the most important thing. 
Communication is more important than entertainment. 
This music saved my life, 
so I'll be dead and fucking gone before it's bought and sold 
just like appliances and cars. 

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