Blood of the Past (feat. Kate Tempest)

All the many corpses begin to speak What ignorance is cannot be argued over anymore It is too late for pleading white picket dreams Print you off, the shemps, the world is shrinking Rooted in a trivial concern, in interconnectedness In the need to make face and keep up And drown out the many voices within Imagine a culture that has, at its root A more soulful connection to land and to loved ones But I can hear the lie before you speak There is nothing but progress to eat And we are so fat and so hungry And the black wrists are cuffed in the pig van While the white shirt and tie in the tube car, distractional picture Pictures of beer and guilt about urges Sexual distrust and abandoned to nothingness Give me something I can nail myself to Give me a sharply-dressed talking head Who has something about them I trust and despise And what of it, anyway? These windows don't open They were designed to stay closed Shower, smoothie, coffee, commute Check the internet, never stop, never stop There is a scar on the soul of the world and it needs you to look The blood of the past is here, it remains The blood of the murders, the bodies like sacks leaking brain All stacked, chest aback on the planes, it remains To acknowledge without guilt, to accept without condition And to listen when other people tell you how you have behaved Truth is, it's for us to feel and be moved But I hear the clatter of bone against steel, it is coming It will not be stilled, it is there In the air, scorched white The reflection of sunlight on glass bouncing back into sunlight And glass bouncing back, industrialized Denial, business as usual So roll your eyes, shake your head, turn away and call me names I'm okay with that, too proud Unable to listen, we keep speaking Moted by blood, unable to notice ourselves Unable to stop and unwilling to learn