Against Me!

Haste Killed Creativity

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The days blow by in agile moments of clarity
and blind despair.
With rage so thick it's bittersweet to see a smile
come through here and there.
You put your faith in living,
but youthful idealism
is no longer welcome here.

I'm not dead yet.
Hopes not dead yet. (*2)

A hero's march down scorn filled halls defeats the charity
of last years hell.
Your vain eyes show no respect,
just loss of recognition
broken spirit burnt out will.
Sing a song of cynicism
a foul smell of shit decay and degradation
in the midst of celebration.

I'm not dead yet.
Hopes not dead yet. (*2)

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