1. |
White Phosphorus Ghosts
04:05
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They come to haunt & set fire to our children.
They scream with sick, deafening awe. Hailing sorrow down.
We are the scanter for their burning. We’ve always lived like this
I wipe my face in the gutters. There’s rubble of hope in my heart.
I pray for an end to this haunting. The holes in our skin and the scars
Terrified. The sound of sirens & the black shadows in the sky
I hear their screech in the distance. They’re coming for us. I’m paralyzed
Nowhere to hide. No one to help. We will be found.
They fall like rain
They level our houses, into shallow graves.
I lay buried in concrete, pinned down in pain.
My days are over, 100 days of rain
The ghosts of Mosul, they go by many names
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2. |
Noble Lies
02:08
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Don't waste a crisis - the first rule of spin
Pacification - slow boil the skin
Politicize the tragic - the truth is too bright
They help our eyes - adjust to the light
Believe it’s true. The world is coming for you
We hear their sirens; hear the hooves outside
So we opened our houses, trusted the wrong men
No guns, no force used. We gave them the keys
This is the product, of our obedience
Their noble lies. Cloak their deceit
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3. |
Venom
03:20
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They bend their tongues like they bow for lies.
Swift to shed blood.
No fear in eyes.
Speak no truth.
Their heart is in vain.
Misery and sadness lies in their wake.
We speak of our sorrows like a forbidden name.
Our forked tongues tremble, seething out from our shame.
We hold the torches to portraits born in flames.
We've come to amass the anguish, we've come for your broken days.
No one can tame the tongue.
All have turned away, together become worthless.
Sharp as a serpent’s tongue.
Venom from the asps.
Bitter speeches.
Poison under lips.
Throats are graves.
Tongues, they speak of deceit.
Cut off the head of the tongue that speaks.
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4. |
Hidebound Men
03:07
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Scared of the sun, hidebound men
They scratch their heads, there’s no skin left
Upright in the dark, impatient hands
Wrinkled and rigid, ass full of sand
Sick & averse, chair legs bend
Old-line politics, shallow reach
He shakes in outrage, mouth spits red
Parochial vision, rabid resentment
Disgust for the weak
Plaudit of the crooked
Apathy for the broken
Acclaim for the tyrants
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5. |
Shroud
04:53
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Blood stains the ground
Red dirt in mouth
Wrapped in a shroud
They can come for your children, leave them dead in the road
The systems foundations hold their privilege in stone
All the painful reminders, all the truth rotten words
Is the world they’ve built for you, they prefer you in ruin
Lost to the world.
Ruin. Lost to the world
When the cowards cursed your name
It tapered the arrows that forged your death
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