THIS is so cliche

Another anthem, another rebellion

Another voice, another battle call
A million phrases and zero content
Still it's just music after all


If all these words bred some action
We'd be living in a Tarantino film

If all these pointed fingers joined each other
They could form a million fists


The same damn words,
The same damn chords
Over and over and over again


Rhetorics and war drums
And the blankness to remain


Call it a ripp-off
Call it obeisance

It's smoke and mirrors anyway

What's inside you is what matters

The wrapping can be fun, admittedly