I was on the treadmill tonight, listening to my zen jukebox, and these lyrics came floating through the earbuds:
They say that patriotism is the last refuge
To which a scoundrel clings.
Steal a little and they throw you in jail,
Steal a lot and they make you king.
How true, how true.
Infidels, 1983.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
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