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*VIVA VOCE.
04.24.03 @ 7:03 pm why am i waiting for this town to notice that i'm alive? thank you new jersey for all you've ever done for us. we are soldiers of the west side; paper airplanes over the clouds that rain on empty fields. we made the best of these little lives and pushed away the hard. we are the soldiers of the west side and we'll sing our battle songs praying they'll take us to a better place. mustard gas and grenades couldn't break the boundary of boredom. we march through downtown lined with lego-block buildings and clay-formed colonial houses. to your left notice the paper machet starbucks where we had our first kiss [me and you go way back, new jersey]. to your right you can view the dirt mound we made into the town theater. the best in new jersey drama performed on this little shit stage where we say "fuck you" to the town in soliloquies and monologues [that dirt is what gives us the desire to hop the first train out of here but we dont have the drive and we dont have the power]. so we sit in haddonfield on friday nights watching the mindless, faceless people stroll by and wondering if they ever stopped to hate this town as well. and the height of the excitement around here is whisper down the lane about how tony cheated on tina or how amy broke dave's heart. fuck you new jersey for all the thrill you never get us. garage bands crying out for some recognition but that'll die soon after they realize they're stuck here forever. fuck you, new jersey, for all you ever gave us. << >> SN–— M |