Mud Sun - Third Cell lyrics

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Mud Sun - Third Cell lyrics

Mud Sun was pretty dope for social criticism though You know; we both had sk** with rhythm And overcame most of the divisions Between my liberalism And your socialism We disagreed over specifics but we had a clear vision So, now where is it? Lost to the slip of years and real living You're selling stories to the system I'm sitting here in prison Yeah, like Paris Hilton Yeah, shame isn't it? We went from innovative spitters To swilling beer and bickering Yeah, it's sickening But let's get back to the questioning I know the past is festering But tell me if it's true or not Or just, say you blew the bomb Then if you plead not guilty Then you really are completely rejecting the rule of law? Baba It's been five years Mud Sun's dead and you're successful Why are your here? Did you really want one last debate on politics Is it for the scoop Really? Well, what is it? It's a job Business? Yeah I seek the truth and then find an audience to speak it to But I also took this on because of me and you I respect what you created You do? Yeah Your right to resist is basic But if you're evasive and you plead not guilty Just to make a statement Then face it Your effort is wasted Never wasted Baba, you always thought too naively First of all I do object to the rule of this law completely And second my defiance However symbolic it might be Might be the pressure that snaps the back of this society And that possibility is enough to drive me Even blindly? Come on If you try compromising just slightly By defending your rights and protesting your innocence But also admitting to the crimes that you did commit Then you might get a little bit less than a life sentence Like, twenty-seven years Plus it sends the right message No, I can't plead guilty I've committed no crime And I'll maintain that if it k**s me You have no idea what it's like here Outside your ivory tower Where the noose is pulled tighter each hour And kids are cut down if they try to speak louder It's not the Vancouver journo scene It's not university There's no space for debate or room for cowards Sorry to be the vinegar on your silver spoon But it's time someone tore the roof off your sheltered views The year is 2008