She protests for her own demise Ignoring the truth and cradling lies She pulls the safety blanket over her The blanket of academia Like a suffragette she'll fight Against the grim establishment Made up of old pale men with bad breath And misogynistic sons, and death Will take them all and then the symphony Will climax for every downtrodden minority The old order will be swept away To be replaced by a new kind of grey A grey where leeches still thrive When all along there was black and white The extremes where man has survived But she will not turn to history While there is injustice and misery And reality induces cruel dissonance In cognition, deception and innocence She turns to the alma matriarch And offers her allegiance and heart Pale, with bad breath, a misandrist But she adores the sad old anarchist.