DESCRIPTION:
from ep of 3 songs "ghrintoure be" (2002)

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lyrics nine:

covered in white paint it stood blank, expressionless like the rest of us. left with no source of distractions. just arrested for a second in midair and i beckoned time to give fair warning. blah blah blah, etc. charming. when the background started to fill in. no, wait. as time passes, it gets harder to tell when exactly the panic set in, but then it began. hysteria on a mass level passed through ever so slowly, ignoring the everyday routines. the news seems to be obsessed with untrue things. back to the story of how minds were lost, running down stories. running in any direction possible, to the river, to someone's arms, rushed to the hospital. i thought he was right behind. i swear he was right behind, but i guess he just trailed off somewhere. curse this month. exactly where do i look? any process of thought seems irrelevant at this point, indefinite at this point. curse this month. exactly where do i look? any process...screamed as if he could hear me. dreamed of shared speech, sincerely. class struggles, passed the rubble alone again to remind myself over and over and over this won't end. fight the lessons and cycles of oppression that i use the mic to question. clasped hands in a spontaneous moment of faith. asked ancestors to pray that every man, woman, and child will wake. sacrifices to make because the facts still remain that the world's people get slain while our banner still waves. young soldier. what? 18, 19 years old? told to hold a weapon over your shoulder and patrol the middle east. this anti-terrorism is a motherfucking disease that we're made to believe. we all need some time to grieve, perceive the situation that we're facing instead of flag waving. come together as a unified nation. can't expect me to not question the techniques of a government who wants us to forget that they supplied the tecs and fueled the disrespect that left our cities a mess. don't try to blame it on a holy text. i'm a nervous wreck when i think of what might happen next. it's not right. i'm obsessed with every plane that implies death when it flies overhead. these mental wars are not meant to be triumphant. these mental battlefields are not meant to be triumphant. curse this month. i can't doubt that we're headed to where the sun rests though it might be a complex series of stops. it's hard to not be consumed with hope and progress. fuck a bomb threat. i'm a lot less confident in our leaders. believe that right is not yet in sight. just blow the candles out this is an undying memorial. just blow the candles out this is an undying memorial. curse this month. exactly where do i look? any process of thought.....