| [00:00.000] |
作词 : Kate Tempest |
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作曲 : Danalogue/Betamax/King Shabaka |
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All the many corpses begin to speak |
| [03:21.70] |
What ignorance is cannot be argued over anymore |
| [03:24.54] |
It is too late for pleading white picket dreams |
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Print you off, the shemps, the world is shrinking |
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Rooted in a trivial concern, in interconnectedness |
| [03:34.01] |
In the need to make face and keep up |
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And drown out the many voices within |
| [03:37.78] |
Imagine a culture that has, at its root |
| [03:40.44] |
A more soulful connection to land and to loved ones |
| [03:44.45] |
But I can hear the lie before you speak |
| [03:47.57] |
There is nothing but progress to eat |
| [03:49.48] |
And we are so fat and so hungry |
| [03:52.32] |
And the black wrists are cuffed in the pig van |
| [03:54.74] |
While the white shirt and tie in the tube car |
| [03:56.32] |
Distractional picture |
| [03:58.73] |
Pictures of beer and guilt about urges |
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***ual distrust and abandoned to nothingness |
| [04:03.69] |
Give me something I can nail myself to |
| [04:06.65] |
Give me a sharply-dressed talking head |
| [04:09.01] |
Who has something about them I trust and despise |
| [04:11.39] |
And what of it, anyway? These windows don't open |
| [04:14.81] |
They were designed to stay closed |
| [04:17.50] |
Shower, smoothie, coffee, commute |
| [04:19.36] |
Check the internet, never stop, never stop |
| [04:21.79] |
There is a scar on the soul of the world |
| [04:24.37] |
And it needs you to look |
| [04:26.12] |
The blood of the past is here, it remains |
| [04:29.99] |
The blood of the murders |
| [04:31.67] |
The bodies like sacks leaking brain |
| [04:34.05] |
All stacked, chest aback on the planes, it remains |
| [04:38.54] |
To acknowledge without guilt |
| [04:40.12] |
To accept without condition |
| [04:42.59] |
And to listen when other people |
| [04:45.00] |
Tell you how you have behaved |
| [04:46.79] |
Truth is, it’s for us to feel and be moved |
| [04:50.34] |
But I hear the clatter of bone against steel |
| [04:52.44] |
It is coming |
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It will not be stilled, it is there |
| [04:55.78] |
In the air, scorched white |
| [04:57.80] |
The reflection of sunlight on glass |
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Bouncing back into sunlight |
| [05:02.09] |
And glass bouncing back, industrialized |
| [05:04.98] |
Denial, business as usual |
| [05:08.36] |
So roll your eyes, shake your head |
| [05:10.20] |
Turn away and call me names |
| [05:12.05] |
I'm okay with that, too proud |
| [05:14.44] |
Unable to listen, we keep speaking |
| [05:17.21] |
Moted by blood, unable to notice ourselves |
| [05:21.02] |
Unable to stop and unwilling to learn |
