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Rose Kemp
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Black Medick II
Fuck. How will we ever stop it now? How?
Fuck. How will we ever stop it now? Now!
How, how can we ever comprehend
what part we play until the end?
How? How?
How can we ever stop it now?
Can it be we are free,
when we'll soon cease to be?
And how can we cure this hopeless case of mortality
that's been with us since infancy?
How?
Higher. Higher.
One pink one big one small one
two white ones and a red
one shot of silver water
brew until green to steep
boil up the earth
orange and blue, orange and blue
Higher, more, higher
Get ulcers for your trouble
get money for your time
get trouble for your pride
I haven't got one shred of strength left in me to lie
Higher, more, higher
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Pick shoots and roots from the ground
Earth will provide for our harvest
Fresh and bountiful, ripe raw and bitter
If we turn our tools to the ground
and till the silt we've made
we may stay here for a life time
to see it degrade
We are fever on The Mother's brow
and she will perspire
and its turning us in on each other
frustration is spreading
Curl up and pray for silence
clutch at your organs
short waves of sunny ecstasy
sure sign of darkness
When there is an amnesty
for our ignorance
our reward will be compassion
and glimmering consciousness
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