Don’t you pretend you can turn away:
We’ve all got a dog in this fight
Even systematists who have lost their systems
Hope that it still might
Work. And sometimes I’m an awful cynic
Who won’t hear a single thing
So I know where you’re coming from
And I know where you’re going
You’ve cleaned up your language
Paid off your debts, taken your medicine
But it’s not any better--
No, it’s not any better
Tired to death of the television’s
Strain on your aching eyes:
The old ungraspable cataclysms
Clothed in a new guise
Embers of war that seem to smolder
Smolder forever
It weighs on your shoulders
But you pull yourself together
Shut all the blinds
Cover your ears, wait in the dead air
But it’s not any better--
No, it’s not any better
Onerous clouds press down
Slate-grey and brushed-steel
You lie on your back and wonder:
Are you crushed or too numb to feel?
The man on the street, the girl in your bed
The voice from the satellite
And the systematists who have lost their systems
Hope it can be made right
credits
from Idiomatic,
released October 1, 2016
Lacie Williams: Lead Vocals
Scott Swartz: Guitars, Keyboards
John Baldus: Drums
Ezequiel Valguarnera: Bass
Adam Hucke: Trumpet, Flugelhorn
Ben Reece: Saxophone
Aaron Chandler: Trombone
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