the answer.
What is the point of all this?
Tell me, You, up in the heavens.
All this make sense?
Pain, misery, war.
I ask too much, do you?
Peace, love, justice?
And I,
I can't do anything,
because I have nothing to give.
I'm a fucking pacifist,
who remind the distant '68
and still sings Bob Dylan.
'The answer is blowin' in the wind',
he said.
I'm still looking for that answer.