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But what’s to be done When the only way to defend ourselves From what we’ve created is to merge with it? What can be done to stay human? The racist is drunk on the train The racist is drunk on the internet The racist is drunk at my dinner table Shouting his gun shots and killing us all They still live Those kind and their dead are still living And yes, the anger is rising, the fury The which side are you on? The when will the guilty be called to account? And what can we know of affection? I walk in these graveyard days And I watch how the pixels proclaim What they sell to be health food And we’re dead, all of me knows it We should be preparing ourselves We should be meeting the stages of death in our dreams Noticing all that we sense in a fond way Aware that the ears and the taste buds Won’t work when the soul goes out We should be down on our knees in the dirt Dizzy in rocks, on coastlines, shivering We should be fasting two days out of seven Letras de cancionesSleeping in shifts with the others who share our households To make sure that, at all times, someone is up with the candle Instead, we are online venting our outrage Teaching the future that life is performance and vanity Post a quick death threat Drunk every evening Sick from the radiated meat Sucking on pork ribs and summoning pornography So that we can cum when we fuck Our partners don’t know us Our families are strangers Our friends make us nervous There is a well in the pit of the city that we dance around Sucking and slime-banked WhatsApp group chat, beers in the sunshine Behind the noise, you can feel it The heat from this well Our minds are racing into the dead We hurl everything Against the stop of the blank hand that muffles the mouth But we can’t win "I see how blind I’ve been," said all prophets, too late All humans, too late From Letras Mania