Stone's Throw

"The fight is dead," the riot cop said, as he sat me on the curb
With my cramping wrists, piss and apple cider vinegar
Though I'm trembling still, from nerves and chill, I will have to call your bluff
If you think you can stop this struggle with a pair of ziptie cuffs

A clear sky storm of flash-bangs, beanbags, hazy and surreal
A scarlet letter spray-painted on a makeshift trashcan shield
But they tossed our stuff before they loaded us on a stolen public bus
Goggles and a spray bottle, the only LAW I trust

They held us twenty to a tank of cold concrete and steel
Where you'll lose your mind trying to keep time by counting orange peels
I don't know which is worse, missing the warm bath of daylight
Or waking every hour to the same fluorescent night

I got released to a fast food feast on the front steps of the jail
But we know our work ain't finished until we empty every cell
So you can ban us from the Plaza, stay away from City Hall
But sure as we burned that flag, that edifice is gonna fall

So we rage on like a Greece fire, I heard they torched a bank today
And we raise a fist to Cairo, we're just a stone's throw away
If you've got a pot to piss in, don't be afraid to call it black
Or you'll never break the kettle and take your city back