Plattenbau Persephone Praxis Lyrics

The white noise is wasting me
A thousand spinning plates and nobody's doing the dishes
Breathe in, the body rises;
exhale and the mind sinks
Cloying brains brought back from the brink,
another stimulant, another drink
With coffee-stained nerves and finger-stained keys
furrowing digital fields, hands lashed to the plough
let it be this; let it be now

Searching for the meaning in the depths of the well,
In the wiring inside, in the ringing bells
The coding of elegance, the gatekeeping of eloquence
where sparking switchboards dazzle and dance into deference
where starry eyed meet light pollution,
where word of mouth meets gathered feet and dissolution
We're each kept in the dark as the black-bagging begins,
kicked out on the street for their sins. I won't be dragging
my feet any more than they're dragged through the mud,
hands riddled with wages; fists dripping with blood
Why do the hungry pick all the food?
Why do the naked sew sequins, secluded in sweatshops?
Why do the capitalists blame those without jobs?
We're all in, all in up to our necks;
Horizons foreshortened with your nose to the ground
The waisting starts younger than birth;
the coping narcotics bloom neglect
and a face in the dirt
A beating to state latent hurt
And, after all, things can't get worse,
when it's the third time this year
you've carried friends from a hearse
As if for hunger we yearn
As if to cauterise the burn
I gazed into the tubes to find reason
and cathode rays beamed through my each, my every nerve,
Persephone

The natrescent glow of the after-dark Styx
and skin of white phosphorus leave me transfixed
on the monitor. And I see you there
And squinting revealing these pixels depicting your fear
The marble as cold as objectification
No will of your own. Still passed between unfeeling hands
With head to the glass, I wept