Bombs Away

this is 5 years and four thousand orgasms later

we've killed all the goths and we've killed all of the skaters



we've run around naked and run around cloaked

and I've broken my own heart

and broken your nose



this is our weapon made up of small gestures

and sweating love letters, gun powder and hope

this is our weapon and we will perfect it

we will perfect it and let the thing blow



there is no way to feel or fall or fade away

without losing days and days and days



until the days turn into years

and until all of the simple fears

turn into complexes and conversations

about lesbians, separate spaces



how long have we been yelling?

and what is this that you're trying to sell me?



I miss beds with girls whose little head are filled with

hopes of having a stronger constitution

and dreams about a revolution



this is our weapon made up of small gestures

and sweating love letters, gun powder and hope



this is our weapon and we will perfect it

we will perfect it and let the thing blow