Baby I’m An Anarchist
You could almost set your watch by it: the compulsion of the majority of commentators to bash the Occupier movement (accusing them of all being rapists is the latest) is so predictable, it’s laughable. Almost.
Anyway, let them continue to defend 25-year-olds in suspenders making million-dollar bonuses, and as Europe melts down. Me, I’ll hum along to this Against Me! oldy but goodie:
Through the best of times,
Through the worst of times,
Through Nixon and through Bush,
Do you remember ’36?
We went our seperate ways.
You fought for Stalin.
I fought for freedom.
You believe in authority.
I believe in myself.
I’m a molotov cocktail.
You’re Dom Perignon.
Baby, what’s that confused look in your eyes?
What I’m trying to say is that
I burn down buildings
While you sit on a shelf inside of them.
You call the cops
On the looters and piethrowers.
They call it class war,
I call it co-conspirators.
‘Cause baby, I’m an anarchist,
You’re a spineless liberal.
We marched together for the eight-hour day
And held hands in the streets of Seattle,
But when it came time to throw bricks
Through that Starbucks window,
You left me all alone.
You watched in awe at the red,
White, and blue on the fourth of july.
While those fireworks were exploding,
I was burning that fucker
And stringing my black flag high,
Eating the peanuts
That the parties have tossed you
In the back seat of your father’s new Ford.
You believe in the ballot,
Believe in reform.
You have faith in the elephant and jackass,
And to you, solidarity’s a four-letter word.
We’re all hypocrites,
But you’re a patriot.
You thought I was only joking
When I screamed “Kill Whitey!”
At the top of my lungs
At the cops in their cars
And the men in their suits.
No, I won’t take your hand
And marry the State.
‘Cause baby, I’m an anarchist,
You’re a spineless liberal.
We marched together for the eight-hour day
And held hands in the streets of Seattle,
But when it came time to throw bricks
Through that Starbucks window,
You left me all alone.
