The Well-Read Paranoiac You can't push me hard enough to make me think you are doing the right thing, You can't say that I don't know what you're talking about . The Well-Read Paranoiac You can't push me hard enough to make me think you are doing the right thing, You can't say that I don't know what you're talking about. In worlds apart from yours or mine. People struggle for a moment of rest, Only to give it over in the name of the efficient proletariat. Dogs bark and children are cruel.
Cars hurt relatives but bombs kill the enemy.
The choppers coming up over the ridge Have a smiley face on their bottom and a name on the missile. They are gunning for the few with a dream of insanity and a taste for sin. They are gunning for cruel children and dogs that bark. They are gunning for the victory in the ashes of a burning building. The streetlights convince the darkness That their poles are homebase in a cosmic quantum game of tag.