The same ones who lived for me, died for me
The pain is never forgotten.
And blood cannot be paid back in security, or money.
Participation in anything, is the death of something.
A camp in the country, a checkpoint in the city.
Every institution has hand in the business of death, and eclipse.
How do I participate, what do I eclipse.
How do I want to die, How do I want to fight.
How do I want to live.

This is on the song Animal in a Dream by Show me the Body, album Dog Whistle
I think about it a ton, especially when I do praxis shit. Its one of the most impactful piece of writing I've ever heard and I have a feeling Show me the Body didn't make it up(even though they are fantastic)