Just Fake It

I don't mean to miss the good old days; the good old days were mostly bad. But I recall how dark the night got then, how absences could make me glad

And death crept in so quiet, it didn't even make a sound. As far as I could see were dead leaves laying on the ground. Pretty soon I grow and hollow feeling in my heart, Pretty soon me and my sunny day would have to part. If you just stay true, Some good things are coming back to you.

The nature of injustice is that we may not always see it in our own times. The generations that wrote and ratified the Bill of Rights and the Fourteenth Amendment did not presume to know the extent of freedom in all of its dimensions, and so they entrusted to future generations a charter protecting the right of all persons to enjoy liberty as we learn its meaning. When new insight reveals discord between the Constitution’s central protections and a received legal stricture, a claim to liberty must be addressed.

The yard is full of hard rubbish it's a mess and I think the neighbors must think we run a meth lab. We should amend that.

We were the masters of nature, the masters of the world. We had transcended everything—death, fatigue, our natural needs. We were stronger than cold and hunger, stronger than the guns and the desire to die, doomed and rootless, nothing but numbers, we were the only men on earth.

Spring forward, fall back down. Try not to wonder where you are.

That might be the only answer: Americans would have to farm again. All these brokers and investors would get dirt under their nails and go to bed sunburned and exhausted, and that would take care of their anxiety and depression. The simpler communities would inherit the earth.