Thursday
"Autobiography Of A Nation"

Write these words back down, inside:
We have burned their villages,
and the people in them, died,
and we adopt their customs,
and everything they say, we steal.
All the dreams they had, we kill.
Still we all sleep sound, tonight.
Is this what you wanted, to hear?
We erased all their images, and dance,
and replaced them with borders, and flags.
Everything you said, you stole.
Everything you said, you stole.
At the top of this timeline you'll remember,
this is the lipstick on the collar,
and in my own life I've seen it in the mirror,
sometimes at the cost of others' hopes.
So, write these words back down, inside,
that's where you need it, the most,
and without conviction, of heart,
you will never feel it, at all.
Yeah-we all dance to the same beat
when we're marching-yeah-the t.v. tells us everything we need
to know, and this scene is painted
in all the fashions of the moment
and history is all the same.
Everything you say: you stole.
Every dream you dream: you bought.
But I am still here and we are all guilty.