Simplicity of Construction

Why do we bleed ourselves for love? Why do we do what we must instead of what we want? Why do we fear the struggle? when we say we feel it everyday When do we start to playing, and stop getting played? Is it communist to think that you and me are equal? Is my narcissism in full swing when I say I want the best for those I love? Am I selfish to think I have the right to pardon anothers pain By taking myself out of situations where I hurt something to serve my appetite? Am I against the will of God to say I only work for the word of love? Am I cynical to believe, your the best thing in my life? Cuz we'll march ourselves straight to death, believe half the shit these fuckers say Am I naive to believe that revolution starts by saying No? We could build a house made up of All the things we cherish All the things we've worked for In the sensory assault called life Take the sentiment and the venom And make the best damn life we could ever think of And find a little bit of redemption In the simplicity of construction