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