Jay A Thinker

I don't care who rules the world

I don't want to know where the world is going,
how humility is progressing,
or who drives the economy.

I just want to go where I want, when I want, and how I want.

I don't care about the left, least of all the caviar-eating left telling me who to vote for.

I want distance from the right—conservatives and libertarians,
і who don't know if they want the Bible or fornication.

Communism, socialism, anarcho-capitalism... I don't want any "ism," I don't want your ideology. Every ideology is just a postmodern religion—a secular faith to divide us, or just to look intellectual.

Fanaticism...!!

Nobody can control me.

Freedom is my religion.
Freedom is my religion.

They won't conquer me, they won't divide me
I won't kneel to any of these "new secular religions"


I won't be a pawn in their dirty game.
I won't buy into this theatrical Manichaeism.

fanaticism...!!!

They won't control me.

Freedom is my religion.
Freedom is my religion.
Freedom is my religion.

Freedom.

They are just young
Young men entering adulthood
Young men just wanting fun and the thrill of first love
They're just young...
Young men, making the stumbles of youth,
Tripping over errors until they find their way
They are but young...

Young men who carry on their shoulders nothing but the weight of their dreams
and the certainty of so much left to live.

But will they?

"For there is an old man in the middle of the road."

An old narcissist who looks into the mirror
and sees Caesar looking back
In every land, in every tongue,
there are old men hungry for a name,
trading the pulse of the living
for the hollow glory of their own
Old men who should be architects of their people's peace,
yet waste their hours claiming countries that are not theirs.

(chorus)
The thrill of first love, now a silenced heart.
The thrill of first love, now a silenced heart.

While old men see themselves as heroes of new empires,

mothers are handed cold, folded flags.
they are just old...no
They are not just old men; they are psychopaths,
serial killers whose victim counts will never be tied to their names.


They say history is written by the victors,
so they dip their pens in the blood of the young,
turning a massacre into a personal monument
for old men who see themselves as heroes.

But why weep for the lives of the young?
After all, thousands more are manufactured every year.

(chorus)
The thrill of first love, now a silenced heart.
The thrill of first love, now a silenced heart.
The thrill of first love, now a silenced heart.

With the final salute, the day is done.