Dress Rehearsal Rag

I smoked well into the filter before heading inside.

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So sing for every buried moment that you’d thought would never end.
And sing your fears about the future; and a dirge for faded friends.
For all the love that you had held to, why it somehow failed to keep.
And sing each minute you’ve been frightened; every hour that you’ve lost sleep
And sing for all your friends and family; sing for those who didn’t survive.
But sing not for their final outcome; sing a song of how they tried.
We live amidst a violent storm; leaves us unsatisfied at best,
So fill your heart with what’s important, and be done with all the rest.
We are what’s left of what we once were
We are falling far behind.
There’s so much stacking up against us and we’re running out of time.
La Dispute, The Last Lost Continent.

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My father is the greatest protector of middle-class white males! I’m so glad he is here to make sure we are allowed to be as racist as possible and have no one take issue with it because that is our right. I feel much safer knowing that he is here is to protect our family from dangerous reverse-racism and to remind us all that calling an aboriginal an ape can’t possibly be racist, since if you said that to a white person it wouldn’t be (what?). I feel that without people like my dad, 200 years of systematic oppression will finally be able to be neatly swept under the rug, and finally, FINALLY we will be able to make whatever racist comments, jokes and attacks we want without ever being judged for it.