Stripped, tossed on its knees, exhibition.
By our one-way mirrors of shame and admiration.
Here are the borders of a world that was made to dispose from ourselves the ones for whom we'll pray.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Shame. Oh shame. One side is visible.
Stretched on the rack until it broke,
With hands that turn while the other strokes.
No fury or censure for the harvest we reap will ever clean up the dirt where we buried them deep.
Arms open wide for you, why did you choose,
To live in decay underneath us and to laugh while you lose?
We're painting a picture, your colours will only ever run.
Run, run, run.
In the corners where the untouchables go, grows a bitterness that makes them all the more so.
An appendage rejected by the body that grew it, now a parasite on what it used to be.
No control over where the apple falls, still, we grow or fester where and how we will.
Will, will, will, will.