any standing structure, they throw on gas

setting it ablaze and melting the brass

on fear and freedom these fires do insist

and further the plight of the anarchist

collapsing On top and rising below

a war on classes, says Johnny Hobo

they pull not from the middle, but lower

which only makes teir cause so much slower

they are hated and scorned by most, Alike

for Dragging them down with their futile fight

such is the issue with our anarchy

A cause with which none can agree

wishful, brash, violent, it cannot sustain

the system is crippled, Not only stained

I say this as a fello Anarchist

I hope to stand as ashes turn to Mist

and not, in Hand, matches and gasoline

But, beneath my feet, a shattered routine