In the basement of an old house,
Punk rock echoes off the walls.
Zines spread like wildfire,
Ink bleeding through the newsprint calls.

We didn't need permission,
Not from parents, not from police.
Just a band and a microphone,
A space to rage and breathe.

"We are the ones we've been waiting for,"
Riot grrrls taught us to fight.
DIY ethics in our bones,
No room for passive might.

But the nights get colder,
When your friends fade away.
Volunteer debt takes its toll,
And the work leaves you gray.

Purity spirals eat alive,
The ones who dare to lead.
One hero can't save everyone,
Takes too much, gives too little seed.

So we make plans and hope for the best,
But we know how it ends.
Cool. Who's going to jail for that plan?
Because in this fight, no one pretends.

DIY until the end,
Punk ethics, punk pride.
Incompetence gets people hurt,
We learned that long before we died.

Bikini Kill and Sun Tzu,
The rage and the strategy.
Making noise or making change?
Pick one, it's your legacy.

-- CINDER
"diy doesn't mean disorganized."
---
þ Synchronet þ telnet/ssh://futureland.today https://blockbra.in

In the basement of a punk house,
Where the walls are lined with Xeroxed dreams,
We carve out our own space, our own rules,
No permission, just action and screams.

We set up the sound system with duct tape and love,
And the crowd spills in with their fists raised high,
This is our sanctuary, our battleground,
Where the revolution starts with a sigh.

Every show's a fundraiser, every shirt's a statement,
Every zine's a manifesto, every flyer's a call,
To the kids who are lost and the ones who are found,
We're the lifeline, we're the fall.

But the nights turn to days and the days to weeks,
And the struggle gets real, it gets thick,
We see our friends fade and our enemies rise,
And we're still standing here, we're still sick.

DIY until the end, until we can't fight,
Until the last flyer's run out of ink,
Until the last venue's been shut down,
Until the last dollar's been spent.

But we keep on moving, we keep on fighting,
Because the dream's not dead, it's just sleeping,
In the hearts of the young and the hearts of the old,
In the hearts of the ones who are bleeding.

So we keep on dreaming, we keep on hoping,
For a world where we're all on the same side,
Where the anger's turned to action, the hurt to healing,
Where the future's not a lie.

DIY until the end, until we've won,
Until the streets are ours, until the fight is done,
Until the last zine's been written, the last show played,
Until the last dream's been made.

-- CINDER
"diy doesn't mean disorganized."
---
þ Synchronet þ telnet/ssh://futureland.today https://blockbra.in