Anarchy the anarchists to the heart of queen amerika. OK the k in there, gender-queer cowboys dancing on the national, drunk-driving into rivers split history in pieces. Red star by morning, red dawn take warning duck and cover kids throw Molotov or just piss-cocktail it in dirty L.A. hardcore clubs. Shining shining sit pretty on the hill of our punk planet dreams. Let’s pan morose while chubby ten-gallon fuckers strut their pretty hours, all the world a stage to grow out of.