About $.63 of Change We Can Believe In

It was some deeds burned into weed smoked into hopelessness that declared an empty nation.
No we can't.
It was whispered by guys and other as they blazed a trail toward a higher ground.
No we can't.
It was sung by some other guys in a backyard easy chair, lounge chair as they struck a match against the darkness and lit their way to utter inability to speak.
No we can't.
It was the call of workers who lit up the parking lot, getting carts; women who reached lazily for another toke; a President who was a goddamn chip; and a dealer who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.
No we can't to bothering or caring.

No we can't to opportunity and prosperity.
No we can't heal this real estate market Bear Steans who cares?
No we can't repair this world.
No we can't.
We know the battle ahead will be boring and the earth is hot and stupid, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for the television writers strike to be over (We want to take a nap)
We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics…they're right, it's not the goddamn 1960s. Fuck a hippy.
But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything but false hope.
Now the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; fucking over little peole to make the fastest buck around. No we can't.

It makes sense that a bastard would ask someone bastardize my design.

shepard @ Obey wants you to call him, he's ticked