1. |
IX - The Spectacle
04:50
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2. |
X - Where's Your Right?
02:04
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Where's your right
Where’s your right
where’s your right
To Point The Finger
Where's your right
where’s your right
where’s your right
To Draw The Lines
you go throughout the world declaring your doctrines of permissibility.
Genocide, deportation, family values denigrated
pitted against your bureaucracy
say your breaking down economic barriers while building the walls to support corporate towers. "citizens" foot the bill for the destruction of immigrant lives. its no wonder...
Patriotism
A guise of possession
thievery
breeds paranoia
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3. |
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Disdain runs so deep, our own body would betray
Even the womb is not a safe space
Translated into every aspect of our lives
We are taught to blame each other, taught to blame ourselves
A society in which our brothers would turn away
A society in which rape is followed by a laugh track
An industry that shames the very behavior it encourages
I can’t tune in without throwing up
Can’t reconcile the abuse with my existence
Your denial of the situation is your participation
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4. |
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everyday, another reason to hate every minute, another lost faith
violated in schools, under our own roof
theres no refuge
in family or friend every institution
a callous hand
The smell of ashes carries. An innocent sinner burning. 5,000 miles away, We still burn
How many people will watch on as young women scream in pain?
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5. |
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My legs! I count the distance
in the space, between my thighs
disgraced by this violent disgust
on my waist; from dust to dust
Starving, overcompensating
Anxiety remedied in secret
There is never relief, only self-defeat
Can’t come to terms with my own body
Every resource is the source of the problem
No reference to how I feel matched up against the way the world views us
“Lose 30 pounds, in just 30 days”
“How to please your man, in this many ways”
“Apply this product now, look young forever”
A market sustained by robbing self esteems
Our mothers and sister have no room to breathe
Obsessing, as shards bite my feet
Tiny reflections of self- loathing
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6. |
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Lured by cries of sanctuary,
delusion of safe embrace
forgetting the site of violence
follows us in wait
even within back alleys
of refuge,
lie dark corners
of deception
shadows of societies predation
you are not my friend.
Even if I had an army
behind me, I'd lose
But all I have is
the skin borrowed off a few shoulders to cry on
The dignity of another beast saved, community at convenience
They're doing their part to make up for their part
Her tears burned right through my chest,
sit in my skull, make me depressed
but your arrogance remains in tact
can still feel mistrust more than touch
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7. |
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We don’t even have the language to understand our children
Generations of repressed self-expression
over-medicated, misunderstood
There’s no patience for difference
We couldn’t walk away from our problems
Couldn’t walk away from myself
So they separate us
quarantined
So they separate us
quarantined
Treat us like we are a disease
But there’s no real healing
So we’ll turn on ourselves
Still try to figure out the problem
Don’t know where to start
No one can help
Therapy is an institution
Our mental health
is a market
Turned our feelings
into profit
I feel shame
Though I’ve no blame
(I) bear this pain
You turn me away / call me insane
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8. |
XVI - Skin
01:36
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A: my spirit's crying from a dark place
like i'm in a hollow egg shell --
i could crack so easy --
but i keep pressure on all sides, so i'll never break
free,
from an exterior that binds --
rather than reflects -- me
i’m starving -- shrinking away --
It goes beyond physical recognition, it’s heart palpitations and metronomed rhythms
it’s brain shocks! nightmares!
i feel, inside, that I’m different than
the person in pictures i identify as
than this mask in the mirror that won’t come off --
fused to this face, i can’t name
to this day
fused to these bones, i don’t know
i dont own
En bloc, nom de guerre -- in this skin that shivers and quivers
as it cloaks me in this flesh
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9. |
XVII - All That Remains
04:01
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eager to fulfill, well priced coping mechanisms
Every aspect since birth
backed by special interests, clamouring for loyalty
to a mark, to an idea
fabricated needs, found on aisle 3
conveniently placed, readily made
sandwiched between, memories of species (and)
reputations, built for ruin
inevitably lining monuments to our accomplishments
odors of success, emit from greed, double bagged, preserved
As a testament, to their children
every reach to the shelf, reveals hands bathed in guilt
rust and dust, on my sleeve
dependency, slow suicide
every deal is a murder
I wouldnt commit
if the appeal, didn’t cast a, convenient shadow
Competition: modern idolatry
the god of healthy economies
Take pride in this
Your culture, of blind indulgence
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Recreant Tampa, Florida
recreant |ˈrekrēənt| archaic
(noun) a person who is unfaithful to a belief; an
apostate.
Cheddar wanted a screamo band, B wanted a grind band, Tristan wanted a crust band, and Jesse wanted a metal band, so we just threw it all together, mixed it with that Florida flavor, our Miami mami Ashley, and made what we like to call swampcore.
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