Ration my breath - terror clandestine in my chest
Mangled, I lay on a foreign forest floor
Caught in an instant, divided by distance
Alone in the fray, clutching my trigger, I pray
As I make amends with death on a distant shore
Such is the fate of the nation state
(despite the myths they propagate)
The narrative never fits the crime
Democracy’s died this death a thousand times
The masses kneel before the golden cross
Held by the priest who bows at the feet of the king
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Fighting to find our humanity
Bury me with my name in an unmarked grave
Another casualty to the vanity of history
The war marches on after the killing ends
Take our lives - colonize our minds
I’ve been digging through timelines, historical bylines;
I find the fatal flaw in our design lies
Between thoughts we had
And words we knew
Between what we’re told
And what is true
Who fuels the facsist?
A classist— inculcating the masses in passes
Under the contrived
Countenance of contrition
The victor writes the story -
More often burns the manuscript
Set fire to a pyre cremate the crimes that they commit
But the flames kept us warm
So we bit our tongues and tasted scorn
The bitter stench of finite men
Betrayed by the thieves they swore to defend
The bell will toll
And in the end lay only the echoes of
What could have been
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Fighting to find our humanity
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Nothing we fought for will set us free
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast
The war machine that feeds for eternity
Throw myself headlong into the jaws of the beast
The war machine that turns for eternity
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast
The war machine that feeds for eternity
Throw myself headlong into the jaws of the beast
The war machine that turns for eternity
Mangled, I lay on a foreign forest floor
Caught in an instant, divided by distance
Alone in the fray, clutching my trigger, I pray
As I make amends with death on a distant shore
Such is the fate of the nation state
(despite the myths they propagate)
The narrative never fits the crime
Democracy’s died this death a thousand times
The masses kneel before the golden cross
Held by the priest who bows at the feet of the king
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Fighting to find our humanity
Bury me with my name in an unmarked grave
Another casualty to the vanity of history
The war marches on after the killing ends
Take our lives - colonize our minds
I’ve been digging through timelines, historical bylines;
I find the fatal flaw in our design lies
Between thoughts we had
And words we knew
Between what we’re told
And what is true
Who fuels the facsist?
A classist— inculcating the masses in passes
Under the contrived
Countenance of contrition
The victor writes the story -
More often burns the manuscript
Set fire to a pyre cremate the crimes that they commit
But the flames kept us warm
So we bit our tongues and tasted scorn
The bitter stench of finite men
Betrayed by the thieves they swore to defend
The bell will toll
And in the end lay only the echoes of
What could have been
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Fighting to find our humanity
We stand alone in the dust of what could be
Nothing we fought for will set us free
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast
The war machine that feeds for eternity
Throw myself headlong into the jaws of the beast
The war machine that turns for eternity
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast
The war machine that feeds for eternity
Throw myself headlong into the jaws of the beast
The war machine that turns for eternity
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Album: SP3
Kill Your Stereo