In the maze of magical mundanity
The anarchist sleeps
With an unpainted sign
Doesn’t yet see the reason to whine
Well, there’s the broken bricks
There’s a better anarchist out there in chains
But you just stay inside, don’t you?
Don’t you see you’re wasting light and life, and there are better things to do?
The Anarchist is waking,
Realising the steps they’re taking
But is it too late?
Only time will tell.