Go It Alone. Inheritance. Zeneszám

In generation after generation the seeds of submission find fertile soil. They poison us with pride while the truth remains behind locked doors, sequestered in the minds of those who have been ignored, silenced, and pushed aside. The voice of truth is hushed before it reaches our ears so we inherit the lie. For generation after generation whitewashed "facts" masquerade as reality. Can you smell the bullshit? It lingers in history texts on highschool desks and on our leader's breath. Pushed aside, neatly swept under the rug. The voice of truth is hushed before it reaches our ears so we inherit the lie. This is our inheritance. Keep puffing your chest. Keep bursting with pride. Keep waving your flags. Keep closing your eyes. Close your eyes.