The Job Smashing Window Creators

I've been waiting for this war to be over, since before the first battle began
We are haunted by weaponized illusions, that keep interrupting our plan
If we create a way to run away from power games, masquerades
And clashing blades, then our enemies will win before we fight
I do not know how to wake up from this nightmare
So until then I will try to make things right

Sometimes it will feel like pushing boulders, up relatively vertical hills
Playing chess against kings and their soldiers
When our comrades are not ready to help
First they'll call our self-defense violence
Then they'll call their violence the law
They say their tridents are made out of kindness
But those words are made of poisonous straw

When the next revolution is over, we will celebrate together
Sharing jugs of wine, in a utopian neighborhood
And then remember all of those good old times
All of those good old crimes
Like throwing rocks at cops and shops for fun
Because we could and the greater good