1 Freedom

Hey, look at what I've found

I'm so happy

Because I found me

If you don't like it you can shove me in the

ground

I've rid myself of melancholy woe

I've let those hateful words flow

They put me in a shuttle & blasted me to space

They wanted me to be the victim of special case

I've found my weapon and it's called the truth

It's ammunition is the voting booth

If the path to knowledge needs some pain

Hate to sound callous and vain

If reality is false & desire is wrong

Then don't you desire to end desire... aren't you

long-gone?

So you let the control go to the divine

You only worship when you have time

Because I don't need your statues anymore

Those idle walls hold up your lofty door

I've found my weapon & its called the truth

Its ammunition is the voting booth

Trying to storm the Bastille tonight

Remember the rebels who fight, fight, fight