Unscripted Moment - Propagandhi

[Spoken:]
They had take my mother to a concentration camp from which she never returned. (Then I leave my baby [?] have to return [?] cancelling legal [?]- and have consents of my father and brothers, then we shall[?])
-How long did you stay there?
For the rest of the war
-Ah, in all this time you haven't seen your father?
No sir!
-And do you think that you'd know him after all these years, you know you were just a young boy when you last saw him?
I knew I was just a boy, but I'll always know my father.
-Well now, take (the first seat there [?]), we want you to turn around and see if you know him.

We describe the sensation
as a tearing in our chests
and there is a quality
in Feiburg's father's
post-war wail that reaches
through the world's worst speakers
and beseeches

anyone who happens by,
on their way to somewhere else -
clicking through the endless screens
for the garbage on the shelves
reflections of ourselves -
to consider the cost
of all this sh_t we seem to think
will fill our perforated souls.
We're more hole than human being,
can't wash away that stink.

13 billion years in the making:
a live, unfiltered moment.
An unscripted encroachment
upon the province of routine evil -
of all-too-human people.
So pious, so peaceful.
So quick to turn on you.

Thought I was f_cking outta here
with two middle fingers in the air.
Then like a mile-wide meteor,
he came crashing through my door.

That's just how it goes.
And everybody knows
ain't too much can be done.

All the avarice and greed
and puny human hatreds
that dare to come between two human hearts.
I try not to live in fear
and I'm truly grateful
for every happy moment here.
Upstairs I hear her voice
she softly singing
to him and I come undone.
Something wicked this way comes.

And that's just how it goes
and everybody knows
ain't too much can be done.

view 407 times

comments