The Machine

A boot made for stamping down
is built into our brain
So we made a machine for rationing out
The feeling of inflicting pain
There’ll always be a job
Separating sheep from goats
After all, it’s easier to beat and rob
somebody you don’t know.

The smoke of yesterday
moves into the night
You lie back with your cigarette
Everything feels alright
Some people’s lives are broken
and they got no place to go
But no point shedding too many tears,
They’re someone you don’t know.

A life spent enjoying privilege
Moves into the past
In an ivory basement your parents rent
To your bloviating ass
You write out several thousand words
Spelling your demands
Banging a drum cos you’re deaf and dumb
and impossible to understand

Yeah you’re so fucking afraid to die
Yeah you’re so fucking afraid to die
Yeah you’re so fucking afraid to die

…This is being recorded next week. I’ll let you know how it goes.

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