White, Discussion

I talk of freedom

You talk of the flag

I talk of revolution

You'd much rather brag

And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse

Continue to dampen the day

The coin flips again, and again, and again, and again

As our sanity walks away

All this discussion

Though politically correct

Is dead beyond destruction

Though it leaves me quite erect

And as the final sunset rolls behind the earth

And the clock is finally dead

I'll look at you, you'll look at me

And we'll cry a lot

But this will be what we said

This will be what we said:

"look where all this talking got us, baby."