It’s the enactment of empire in every spoken word
It’s the violence implicit in everyday discourse
It’s the traces of history deep inside ourselves
Processes that made this fucking war a state of health
To what extent are we implicated; to what extent engaged?
Whose bodies get violated and when are we enraged?
Sleepless staggering crowds at dawn, I’m tired of this shit
But it wears you down till suddenly you catch yourself in it

Walking tightrope lines - these are struggles that we choose
Until that rope gets fashioned around our necks as a noose
And if these words could speak imagine all the stories they would tell
What happened in the shadows of the factory’s hollow shell
So can we now consent to this but somehow not submit?
Is this our final compromise; is this the final trick?
Well I’ll hold out another day and maybe some after that
Language is theft and it’s fucking time we stole it back


Lyrics submitted by displacedfever

A Brief Polemic (Some Words on Words) song meanings
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