[Intro]
I stood with the Earth at my disposal, didn’t know what to make of the matter
To me we’re all matter
The smiles I remember too soon begin to shatter
Mind floods with idol chatter
Not a nymph but had a constant drive, now a nymph just to feel alive
Teeth marks on southern peach, thickest thighs
Touch her and she get arise
For 40 minutes, we enjoy the ride
She slept peacefully for once 'cause I sobbed outside
[Verse 1]
Closed mouths don’t eat but they spare humiliation
Sparе you the tales of hatred, my comradеs faceless
Or in detention centers, confiscated shoelaces
Scent of mail letters and nicotine
The news uttered make you grab the Listerine, this is our history
I am just a consequence of testing the regime, uh
I reflect the end result but never the extremes, uh
Subjects of disease, neglected as expected by the state that promised us a right to speak
Left to wander at release, undeveloped, incomplete with the ability to pass it to they seeds
The fetus grew old as the trees, wisdom of a fiend, how it all repeats
Type of shit that make you wanna cower at defeat
Type of shit that makes you think that we shoulda' stayed meek
Though the embed everlasting and unique
[Chorus]
Shinier days will come
'Till then, he lost patience
Sick of the slaughter, so he sought assimilation
Ran where it’s loveless, gored by the tusks of presumption
Why run from the subject?
[Spoken-Word Outro]
Psychoanalysis is like the Russian Revolution
We don't know when it started going bad
We have to keep going back further
To the Americans? To the First International?
To the secret Committee?
To Freud himself, from the moment of the ‘discovery’ of Oedipus?
Oedipus is the idealist turning point
Yet it cannot be said that psychoanalysis had set to work unaware of desiring-production
Production as a process overtakes all idealistic categories and constitutes a cycle whose relationship to desire is that of an immanent principle
The principle in this case? Hatred
Erasure of the highest order as ressentiment bled from Jouissance’s wounds and plagued neighboring environments and its people
Infighting ensued, bodies of water rendered unsafe, the soil malnourished, resources scarce, the chemical waste in the air makes the silhouettes of bodies in the trees look like ornaments
It seems they made the place Great Again
Yet despite this pandemic, our protagonists remain light and nimble
They never sleep, they dance in war and in peace
Some people committed to their everlasting influence
Others, deflated, yearn for their reincarnation
Regardless, it’s well known that they never sleep
They dance in war and in peace, and they never die
