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Over the past years, as our liberties & freedoms have been eroded, it has become increasingly apparent that people are no longer prepared to protest, even peacefully, for fear of what their governments, by way of Police & Legal Systems will do to them. The culture of fear is all pervasive and as such has worked as far as those who seek to pacify and control us are concerned. Ever more inhumane and disproportionate measures have been implemented to quell any social unrest and those who still dare to speak out against injustice, greed or irresponsible power are vilified and demonised by a collaborative press who, like the governments they serve, have long since abandoned their role of representing either the voice or the interest of the people.
I was recently asked by Ashley Reaks if i'd be interested in contributing to his forthcoming album, the theme of which is to be Protest. PROTESTATIONS Dirt farmer come feather your nest in summertime rent boys gather round we have clean gloves and nasal spray these are the wet nurse days where free rain is given to drought victims lungs wheeze and creak like chevrolet cogs in a big cat drip message for a meagre diet whilst ever the coma stews whilst ever the number six no matter how the reflection spins it’s only transmission & compressor oil in through the out door & an exclamation of “I thought you’d finished.... everything!” Sweep slow sweet harlot your path is not for the faint heated but electric misery will plague us all before this night runs dry & wisdom slides on a galvanized curtain rail shutting out a pitted moon compressed into a silver thimble still red with yesterdays’ blood Furniture stalls at the junction whilst the green lights fornicate with wet reflections pulse meters are hot property & only the willful survive new form is perpetual with inaccurate retard technology all a-flutter under foot black & white like a zebra finch - red beak landfill horizons all meshed together & elongated with a paraffin mist both pink & violent with the naked truth & the pews are full of blind faith healers down trodden by mid-term medical students with axes to grind and money to burn sleepless in a tin tub too far gone on a new low tide well done jesus, you put it in a nut-shell & still you wonder why we don’t protest? Bang ugly in the dark spectrum no, this ain’t a right no more more like a crippled child in a fur coffin swigging from nipple-land some tainted juice of resignation for ‘when i leave here no other man shall enter’ goes the dub echo from a time when protest & revolution were as possible as butter from milk Torn sanity on a broken roof liquid resolve (add more water to dilute) o lord see how easy the weak relinquish their inheritance feeling the pulse of a dead television & begging on knees for the repeats to repeat & the sweat of hard labour is sanitized there is always a price to pay so why put the effort in when it’s a new set of rules for the featureless plasticine blood-clots pantaloons girdled with cycle clips full of shit & shame verbal toxification & religious spit-buckets for the semen deeds Tighten up this & tighten up that Lucy Sanctions Disaster break out the pill-press there’s a new gameshow in town > You’ve Been Kettled < with a new breed of shepherds taser-slingin’ with blacked out faces no marks no numbers answerable to no one when the mortar crumbles & the structure collapses & how will you collect your taxes then... Mr. Falsehead Godhead? when your all seeing eye gets blinded damn right this life’s full of surprises damn right this world’s full of divisive devices Put up or shut up, they say but i’m seeing a whole new interpretation where we put up with it & put up with it so scared we might lose our right to remain silent we shut up shop & bury our heads in the slime >> Excuse me, is this the queue for the Last Time? |
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