blood of the past

• tek kelime ile müthiş bir şarkı. sözleri üzerine 10 ciltlik kitap yazılır.
• bizim de böyle varoluşsal krizler yaşayabilmememiz için bir fırın ekmek yememiz gerekir dedirten bir the comet is coming şarkısı.
  
  edit: imla
• efsane bir the comet is coming şarkısıdır. müziği ayrı, sözleri ayrı şahane. londra'dan çıkmış bir jazz. spotify'dan dinlenebilir.
  
  sözleri de şöyle (copy-paste):
  
  all the many corpses begin to speak
  what ignorance is cannot be argued over anymore
  it is too late for pleading white picket dreams
  print you off, the shemps, the world is shrinking
  rooted in a trivial concern, in interconnectedness
  in the need to make face and keep up
  and drown out the many voices within
  imagine a culture that has, at its root
  a more soulful connection to land and to loved ones
  but ı can hear the lie before you speak
  there is nothing but progress to eat
  and we are so fat and so hungry
  and the black wrists are cuffed in the pig van
  while the white shirt and tie in the tube car, distractional picture
  pictures of beer and guilt about urges
  sexual distrust and abandoned to nothingness
  give me something ı can nail myself to
  give me a sharply-dressed talking head
  who has something about them ı trust and despise
  and what of it, anyway? these windows don't open
  they were designed to stay closed
  shower, smoothie, coffee, commute
  check the internet, never stop, never stop
  there is a scar on the soul of the world and it needs you to look
  the blood of the past is here, it remains
  the blood of the murders, the bodies like sacks leaking brain
  all stacked, chest aback on the planes, it remains
  to acknowledge without guilt, to accept without condition
  and to listen when other people tell you how you have behaved
  truth is, it's for us to feel and be moved
  but ı hear the clatter of bone against steel, it is coming
  it will not be stilled, it is there
  in the air, scorched white
  the reflection of sunlight on glass bouncing back into sunlight
  and glass bouncing back, industrialized
  denial, business as usual
  so roll your eyes, shake your head, turn away and call me names
  i'm okay with that, too proud
  unable to listen, we keep speaking
  moted by blood, unable to notice ourselves
  unable to stop and unwilling to learn
• (bkz: leylim ley)