Lyrics: Propagandhi. Supporting Caste. The Funeral Procession.

The funeral procession passed by here today,
confusion and questions left strewn in its wake.
But I feel like I knew his pain.

or mechanical failure while enduring the norm,
some of us fracture, others simply deform
and lose their elasticity never to return
to the shape they were. I wonder which is worse.

I try to keep my composure amidst the insanity.
Resigned to the truth that I will not live to see
the dawn of a better day
that might wash away the sight of this sage?
I try to keep the voices calling me at bay
desperately clinging to any futile lack of human decency.

The voices love to remind me of my futility sitting on my hands
hoping that anyone else than me will do what should be done.
It's hard not to succumb as they call my name.
you gotta keep on trucking anyways