the best thing i ever saw on tv was that (securite quebec) cop catching a bullet with his condolence, madame canadiana, but your husband was a fucking (stuck) but this song's not about some romantic account of it's not about martyrs or mythos or heroes or it's about a native kid flipping her lid just trying to keep some self-respect it's about an oka the size of a fist in resistance and a will to fight and the girls at work, they still deny their they claim tolerance for it seems the degree of (only) racial slurs is their gauge (and it defines tolerance as and there's 27 million girls-at-work imagine fighting that for 500 and golly-gee! how valient! how the white oppressor makes allowance for calculated gestures of insurgence (all tightly tethered to their oka had this orchestra(tion) oka fucked their rules to choose a future self-determined and i, for one, support the smartest thing i think i ever said: if a kevin kostner kavalry is your means to their end, then the struggle is why do we pretend that our approval is upon what they depend?
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