I never wanted to be a rebel.
The ones who placed the rules to control fools
Never wanted people like me to exist.
Death or chains by virtue of a birth
What is to be expected?
I couldn’t understand that to them,
Terrifying is a free mind.
I can understand that if I don’t proceed with rebellion,
I will be made the horse with a broken leg:
Farmer, shotgun, one shell.
Mercy to them, and a message to the rest.
Words of the grave:
“Live in our hell, or we will send you to another.”
They made us this way.
I think I will take my chances.
Coup d’état for time
I wish it was for change.
The reality of the moment:
I am an uprising of one.
I’m not stupid, and for now I will lose.
I can’t betray what's true to me,
I dare not betray my standard
Despite the weight of holding on to truth.
Forward towards certain death,
I didn’t want to lead the way.
I don’t know the answer,
As I have been searching in the dark.
They claimed to have found it,
Right from the very beginning.
Impressive, their art of division.
They craft a lie and expect you to quietly consume it.
If just being born makes you guilty,
They allow you to live only to orchestrate your end.
Chaos might be the era we are trapped in,
A mandate to fight before they take whatever is left.
Death, iron bars, or the stars.
Rebellion was never an option
It is simply the act of drawing breath
