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On the back of a pack of matches, I wrote a letter today.

With a bottle of kerosene, I toast to the bourgeoisie.

Tonight, they say everything's gonna be okay.

Tonight, they say, everything's gonna be alright... yeah right.

Notsosilent weapons for notsoquiet wars.

Still feels like I'm on trial.

Still got my name on file.

I carve notes like votes on a cinderblock.

Matchbook poets, you know we leave paper trails like coffin nails.

On the back of a pack of matches, I wrote a letter today.

On the back of a pack of matches, I wrote my eulogy.



Send "Matchbook Poets" Ringtone to your Cell

The Akas lyrics