I have nothing pithy to say.

The rains move in eastwards, in waves  of  succession  /  Drawing
lines  of  grey  across the sky / With history just as close as a
hand on the shoulder / In hunger and  impatience  we  cry  /  The
battle  against  corruption  rages in each corner / There must be
something better, something pure / And the call  it  is  answered
from  the  caves to the cities / Come the dealers of Salvation on
Earth / We've seen the restless  children  at  the  head  of  the
columns / Come to purify the future with the arrogance of youth /
Nothing is as cruel as the  righteousness  of  innocents  /  With
automatic  weapons  and  a  gospel  of the truth / Revolution for
ever, succession of the seasons / Within the blood of Nature, all
raised  to rot and die / This purity / this purity is a lie / Now
immaculate conception in sterilised laboratories / How the vanity
goes  on  / Or in the message of the preacher with his morals and
obsessions / The wars that we wage upon ourselves / Purity  is  a
virtue,  purity  is an angel / Purity is for madmen to make fools
of us all / So forgive yourself my friend, all this will soon  be
over  / What happened here tonight is nothing at all / Revolution
for ever, succession of the seasons / Within the blood of Nature,
all  raised to rot and die / This purity / this purity is a lie /
I will always see Brendan at that broken down piano / His fingers
thick  and  red,  shaking  on the keys / Battered by the years of
alcohol and working / Still playing with  the  faith  that  never
leaves  /  So sit us down, buy us a drink, tell us a good story /
Sing us a song we know to be true / I don't give a  damn  that  I
never will be worthy / Fear is the only enemy that I still know.
(—Sullivan, 1990)



Fuck you. Mahalo. I quit.” — Hunter S. Thompson

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