freethought
they're at our heart; in our minds; they define us; make us what we are. At the smallest level we are only dust, small cells, tiny pieces which when combined, make us who we are. We're all just a big mess of little building blocks.
Down by the station, that’s where we sit.
The kids of a nation, trapped by the oppression of politics.
And when we stand, to catch that train.
We’re forced down, by the happiness we feign.