The anger's in my cheeks The words aren't in my mouth I know like I have for weeks Everything's only going south If I stay to hear you say Another word of your fanatic way You cannot be wrong, sir Your stance is on fleek Your shoulders are strong, sir But your logic is weak And I know the ins and the outs and the world And I'm sitting and spitting with my fists curled Oh yes, oh yes, you have got the answer But haven't you heard, you're not the new cancer? I'm mincing my tongue, you're not mincing yours And I know that my knowledge is worth just two straws Wise men ask the fool And they all sit and drool But I burn in my anger At how you don't know hunger.
A very, very frustrating philosophy discussion group session inspired this one.