"wouldn't it be more of an act of rebellion if you didn't spend so much time buying blue hair dye and going out to get punky clothes? it seems so petty. stop me if I'm being offensive. you wanna be an individual, right? you look like you're wearing a uniform. you look like a punk. that's not rebellion.
that's fashion."
- slc punk
I heard your words,
but I am left without understanding.
You seem to be full of words,
but you lack meaning.
Where is your passion, your anger,
your frustration, your indifference?
Where are you in the words that you speak?
Sing me a song about your life.
A song about the people you hate.
Sing me a song about the darkest thoughts
that lay embedded in the crevices of your mind.
Tell me of betrayal. Tell me of love.
Tell me of sadness, of deceit, of honesty,
of failure, of embarrassment, of success, of terror,
of all those feelings and events that make you alive.
I want a piece of you.
That's where my interest lie.
I seek the human experience,
the thing itself.