Don't help me I can save myself
If I'm incomplete don't fill the gaps
Save me from the people who would save me from myself
They got muscle for brains
For reasons that are not mysterious
The weak are sent to the wall
They have reservations in heaven
Down here they're not so fashionable
Thank you once again, Gang Of Four, for once again saying what needed to be said lyrically over 20-odd years ago. Another proposed effort in an the race to have our lives micro-managed to eliminate every last possible area of danger, all of the missing, unaccounted nuclear material in the world notwithstanding. This time iPods and cellphones while crossing the streets of New York City.
SAY WHAT???
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