Troppi pensieri.

He’s the farmers barren fields
The force the army wields
The expession in the faces
Of the starving children
The power of the man
He’s the fuel that drives the clan
He’s the motive and conscience
Of the murderer
He’s the preacher on t.v.
The false sincerity
The form letter that’s written
By the big computers
He’s the nuclear bombs
And the kids with no moms
And I’m fearful that
He’s inside me

(Bad Religion)

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