I look around me, and what do I see?
A thousand, thousand people,
Reveling in a false anarchy.
So smug in their own ways,
And yet scared of real chaos,
The real sting of the flays.

So, please, allow me to show you
That which you do not condone
Allow me to show you,
That which only movies have shown.

What does it feel like to have gas,
Instead of smoke, inside your lungs?
How does it feel to have wires
Pierced through your tongue?

Your self-taught philosophy
Is always 'Fight the power'
How does it feel to have real power before you,
Watching you as you shrink and cower?

How does it feel to be tattooed
With the bite of a snake?
And how does it feel
When your hands start to shake?

When you fall to your knees,
And scream out in pain,
Remember these words:
'To fight the power,' you swore,
And now, by power you're slain.