from by Farooq

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Soldiers, gunmen, officials, generals, citizens pushed down for the others to rise. While we glean, they just leave us all to rot (lose).
Touchdown dancing in your face. You're still cheering them on. (In your face)Your heroes find their fortune by robbing you. Still begging for more. Backhanded love is in the air. Unseen, I smell it from miles away. I can smell it from miles away. This world burns all around us, as I sit here playing on my phone. Millions suffer in vain, while I'm still stuck playing on my fucking phone. I'm the effect. It's so hard for me to say. I am a product. I'm the effect of my native ancestors being raped. It's still hard for me to say when my blood line is half predator....and half prey. I won't be threatened by the reckoning of our last days. The rest can have their hands and heads tied together spun all as praise.
Our father whose art is deception, hollowed be thy game. (hollowed be thy game) Lightyears away, we could be inferiors, ignoring infinity.
Obsessing over obese obituaries, soldiers in infancy and infantry. Compressing covert corps competing as missionaries. Everyone is sick and dying and now I'm all fucked up. We're all fucked.


from The Faction, released July 7, 2017



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