And tonight, when I dream it will be

That the junkies spent all the drug money on

Community gardens and collective housing

And the punk kids who moved in the ghetto

Have started meeting their neighbors besides the angry ones

With the yards

That their friends and their dogs have been puking and shitting on

And the anarchists have started

Filling potholes, collecting garbage

To prove we don’t need governments to do these things

And I’ll wake up, burning Time’s Square as we sing

“Throw your hands in the air 'cause property is robbery!”