Long Live Protest Songs, In Whatever Form

I Cannot Think Of A Single Word To Describe What We Feel. I Think We All Feel It, To Varying Degrees. Perhaps In Some Other Language There Is A Word For 'the World Is Terribly Wrong.' That Feeling Of Stun And Unbelief And Abandonment And Shock And Horror And Distress.

I Couldn't Remember Ordinary Moments, Only The Ones That Had Made An Impression. Ordinary Moments Were The Ones That Fell Away First.

I Wish I Were Someone Else, Even Though I Know I'll Never, Ever Be Able To Get Away From What I've Done And What's Been Done To Me.

If We Actually Thought About Every Decision We Made, We'd Be Paralyzed ... You Have To Decide Which Decisions You're Actually Going To Make, And Then You Have To Let The Rest Of Them Go.

I Am Always Amazed By People Who Know Something Is Wrong But Still Insist On Ignoring It, As If That Will Somehow Make It Go Away. They Spare Themselves The Confrontation, But End Up Boiling In Resentment Anyway.