I want to scream and punch the pretty sky.

Sometimes I get so angry I want to shoot privelege in the face and starve with the rest of them.

There's a cost to these endless updates. What's an ipad when there's no food? What's a social vent when the real injustice sit's open mouthed and empty.

Sometimes all I feel is guilt and shame, when the western dream does nothing but lie.

How arrogant the artist becomes when he does not play voice for the child without one.

Tonight Simon I am a question mark.
And an exclamation mark ad infinitim.
Tonight Simon I cannot breathe this air.

I want to rip a hole right through.
I want to scream and punch the pretty sky.

The earth never changed direction,
but we somehow lost our way.