1. |
coloured b & s balls
03:38
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The people are in the master's house and the fires are set. In the outposts of empire, they don't need to send their best.
But Houghton's view from the inside was darker than the rest.
Supply the chains, and remand. Supply and demand.
The baleful glare of the light on the hill. The drone's tv camera eye moves in for the kill.
And we're busy down on our knees, laying foundations for our own prisons.
Don't look too hard at where your culture comes from.
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2. |
safe european cars
03:35
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To some the sound of freedom is drones overhead.
But to me it's commuting options in all weather, while ignoring the talkback dogwhistle - the dull minds with sharp opinions. But the public's getting pissed: What do we pay our taxes for? If nothing feels safe anymore?
We know where our safety comes from. We can see it on all sides.
If you can't shake the feeling that you might play some part in this, that there might be a reckoning, or a calling in of debts. If nothing feels safe anymore, do you wonder what they hate us for? When nothing feels safe anymore, is someone, somewhere, keeping score?
We know where our safety comes from. And we're willing to pay the price.
When they come for us (and no one could say we didn't deserve it), asleep in our beds, the sound of freedom will be the propagandist's camera pointed at your head.
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3. |
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I want you to understand this: it's not because we're offended, or triggered, or you have a point. It's just because this shit is so boring.
You're boring, scared, and getting left behind by history. And I'm sick of it, I'm so fucking tired.
'Everything is permitted' says the man who has never heard a no.
'Art is meant to scare you' says the man who has never felt fear.
And 'punching down isn't a thing' says the man safest from anyone taking a swing.
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4. |
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And me? I'm just over here. And you ask me what I'm thinking? I'm just wondering...
I'm over here wondering how the fuck you sleep, when you excuse these past indiscretions (and faux pas) as the fault of the victims.
Well, here is my demand: retire already.
Or stop, and just once, admit you're wrong.
Fuck this personality makeover of yours with no acknowledgement and no attempt to atone for all the shitty things you said and did.
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5. |
profiles in public life
03:44
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I used to think there would be some kind of comeuppance. But I was so naive.
But now I see there's no such thing.
Just a content retirement. A sympathetic profile on 'Australian Story' or in a weekend magazine.
A position on the board of some charity, ironic in it's nature.
A deference to your service.
A talking head rolled out for commentary.
(I've been around the world a thousand times, and all you men are slime).
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6. |
retirement hair product
03:09
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I know it. I know authenticity is a post-scarcity dream but I still can't help but try to believe.
Is it too much to ask? For something that can't be sold?
We gatekeep now to avoid cancelling later.
Still, we keep hoping to find something that can be sold.
And selling out is a loaded concept, but sometimes the shoe just fits.
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7. |
lynerd skynhed
03:34
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Swinging for the fences, where your friends all sit. Did you fall in love with the danger?
Or did the boots just fit?
So taste the leather, cram it down your throat.
You're crying out to the hometown crowd without a hint of irony. Claiming the strength of your convictions as you appeal to the referee.
And you? You're up there on that cross, built by unskilled labour in a non-union shop.
There's bosses, there's cops, there's you, and there's no daylight in between.
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needlepackau Melbourne, Australia
hardcore punk from naarm/melbourne, au.
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