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We Are All Compost in Training

de Ramshackle Glory

I want freedom, not a boss
That comes in a forty ounce bottle of anything
Or taped scotch paper
I eat meat and drive trucks and shoot guns and don’t trust
In the federal government to solve our problems
You might think I’m joking, but I’m not a republican
Call me when your president pulls out of Afghanistan
'Cause that’s the day I’ll get a cell phone number
And you can call and leave a message on voice mail that day

I fell asleep smoking so I’d wake up on fire
'Cause that might get me out of bed for a while
And back into battle with the things that I breathe
And the holes in my arms, and the way that I think
And if freedom is doing what I want, well that means
I gotta know what that is, not just what it isn’t
So I’ll dig up the dirt and I’ll throw down some seeds
'Cause the world needs more spinach
Not more motherfuckers like me

Motherfuckers like me!

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