hey mom,
i'm thirteen years today
and i think i might be a rebel.

i heard this distorted song
radiating from the speakers of a 4runner
the driver was breathing through a cigarette

hey mom,
today i bought my first punk rock CD
and learned how to properly use profanity.
the lead singer hated his dad
and i was alright with that.



hey mom,
i think i have a mohawk.

we sat under the bridge
like we were badass.
and one of my friends stole some cigarettes from his dad.

we smoked the whole pack
and stumbled back to some girl's house
and played like we were twenty-one.
but we're still stuck at fifteen.

everything was blurry
but i was warm and i smiled.
they cut my hair in straight lines.

hey mom,
i think i'm a rebel.



hey mom,
i might be an anarchist.

this girl from school grabbed my hand
and drove me to the back of the mall.
we sat in the bed of the truck in the parking lot
like we owned it
and got high.

we talked about w's ears or something,
i don't remember.
we related everything to childhood like we were old and wise
but we're not.
we're seventeen.

hey mom,
this girl took me to a flag-burning
and i joined the crowd and yelled.

i don't really know what we were all upset about
something about a war
something about vietnam

when we set all the stars and stripes aflame
she took me behind a corner store
and we sipped on a 40 and kissed.


hey mom,
i'm nineteen years and
i think i'm a man now.
i smashed the mayor's window with a brick.


hey mom,
i think i'm an anarchist.

i've been choking back anger for the last decade or so
and i think i've snapped.
i own so many a's wrapped in circles
like i'm proud of it.

hey mom,
your only son's an anarchist
he's driving a 4runnner
playing some guy's band
some songs about hating your dad
or how we all have become little capitalist bitches
and how the government doesn't give a shit.

hey mom,
to the US i'm just a number.
and i'm protesting down on market street
like i'm an anarchist.

hey mom,
i got arrested today but
i think i might change the world tomorrow.