Recession Sessions # 3 : Proletarian Restitution
The third in our series of songs inspired by the economic crash
There hereafter heroes of the metropolitan ministry.
At the entrance to Heaven, pounding woebegone on its’ gate.
Where honesty is treason,
Here the truth doesn’t set you free.
See, heresy is reason
Our era caught the tail end of Christianity.
This is where Eden yields, blessed underdogs, from the underworld
Our Elysian fields.
Dragged up by accident,
Loved by default, admired from a distance, told off and not taught.
Ask and you shall receive, yet should be seen and not heard,
Encouraged to conceive a narrow minded Gods’ Word.
Got us in the palm of their hand, social control taking a stand.
Eliminating one virus for another on demand.
I’m afraid of failure, weed subdues the care.
Convince myself I’m reflecting deep, when I’m lost in a stare.
I can’t handle reality, I don’t wanna be facing life
I believe in Anarchy, but I’m too busy chasing strife,
To apply principled ideas to my routine.
Scared not out of cowardice, but because we’re human being.
Mother Nature will suffice and God’ll provide survival mode.
We just mimic behaviour, can’t comprehend “Do as your told” .
Because our mothers were busied with strains of woman-hood profound
We learned that silence is golden, hyper sensitive to every sound.
The combination of a dishonest environment with a surplus of woe,
So much falseness the extinction of imagination is a requirement putting a time limit on us to grow.
Whether brought up kicking and screaming or cradled into this existence;
Truth seeking is our full time occupation, never slacking off, building stamina and resilience.
Wielding candid brilliance, courage to hold your own,
The ripest apple of the unseen eye, home sweet broken home -
A far cry from juvenile delinquency.
Innocence is bliss, but with responsibility comes discomfort.
If you never had luxury independence won’t be met with reluctance.
Putting your hand out to be smacked
Submitting to “keeping in line”
Retaliate or retract, with duty comes decision time.
The curiosity will kill us,
Uprooting thoughts from between listening ears.
Consecrating, yet desecrating with mantras spoken over whispering prayers.
Benefitting humankind, releasing pent up: (‘shhhhh’ whatever....)
Unmentionable - thinking is intellectual, but not necessarily clever.
Compliment to the full extremities of ego boiled down to self worth
Given a fair ration of expression and understanding but in saying that,
The deal that I was dealt still hurt.
Take what you are given, I steal what I want
God watches my back.
Spiritually rich, what you have in the material your soul may lack.
A heroic couplet isn’t limited to poetics,
See, stolen from some sacred paper - imitated prosthetics.
The Lord’s an Indian giver, gives it in grievance in greater good, I grab it.
Like a sucker I suffer sorrow, forsaking the Sabbath.
Salute me on the battlefield, a balled up fist and violent fantasy,
Same self sustain and suffrage in the situation salvages sanity.