Do you remember how it was when you bled?
When you loved and burned in those flames that you've kept,
Because Vesta's long been sleeping.
Now you've come to accept that
Your anatomy defines more than a few of the gaping holes in our social fabric,
And it defines more than a few one night stands,
More than a few prison bars melted,
Melted in, melted in, melted into wedding bands.
We've made you all the peasants and we've made ourselves the kings,
Our queens are still subordinate as an angel without wings.
But we make it easy to be hung which means it's easy to be wrong,
"Put some plastic in your tits, and you'd look better as a blonde."
I remember when you were hopeful,
And you never thought your life would be lived inside a coffin
With a moral sacrifice and a million social obligations, labels and expectations,
When you were young and modern seventeen,
In vogue and vague pursuit of the cosmopolitan dream.
So when you bled on the bed as you fed those expectations
As a whore and not a human you embraced with hesitation
The very parameters of all you can be:
Not a mother, not an aunt, not a sister who's not subdued,
Because dignity is not physical and your flesh means more than you.
Your flesh means more than you.
Your flesh means more than you.
Your flesh means more than you.
I know we'll wake up one day with a gun to the back of our brains.
You'll be asking for your rib and I'll smile and call you brave.
Maybe someday when,
When this bloody skull has dried
I'll know our city is in ruins
When our greatest source of pride
Is a monument of dicks and ribs
And the gender crowns we wore
Where underneath, a plaque will read,
A plaque will read...
"No woman is a whore."
Maybe someday when,
When this bloody skull has dried
I'll know our city is in ruins
When our greatest source of pride
Is a monument of dicks and ribs
And the gender crowns we wore
Where underneath, a plaque will read,
A plaque will read...
Maybe someday when,
When this bloody skull has dried
I'll know our city is in ruins
When our greatest source of pride
Is a monument of dicks and ribs
And the gender crowns we wore
Where underneath, a plaque will read,
A plaque will read...
Maybe someday when,
When this bloody skull has dried
I'll know our city is in ruins
When our greatest source of pride
Is a monument of dicks and ribs
And the gender crowns we wore
Where underneath, a plaque will read,
A plaque will read...
