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凌迟

from Demo [2020] by Tapioca

/

lyrics

怎样才能属于雾霾严重?怎样才是太恶劣,太残忍,太痛苦?你拆迁了我的家,代替了我屋檐儿下的方言,我舌头上的歌儿。你粉碎了我的久意念,我的胸怀里只有刺。苦海逃脱不掉吗?埋在土里心经还会唱吗?北京在燃烧,没有老家可归。水旁,我听见何震,蜻蜓,呐喊,支那暗杀团,木棉树的独居。圆月,方院儿,千里共婵娟。水泥上的水笔字干掉了,雾霾天儿,看不见了。
(What can be categorized as severe smog? What is too violent, too tragic, too painful? You ripped up my family home, replaced the dialect under my roof, the song on my tongue. You smashed my old ideas, my chest now only filled with spines. Is the bitter sea inescapable? Can the heart sutra be sung even buried in dirt? Beijing is burning, there is no home for me. By the water i hear he zheng (earthquakes), dragonflies, na han (screams of desperation), the sina assasination group, the cotton wood tree's solitude. The water calligraphy on concrete has dried, under the smog, invisible.)
Inevitable continuity, its only religious like the rest of the catalogue, boring and bland. Ive been thinking about usurping every authority ever since the 7th guy jumped off that building on campus. why is the sky full of birds? Those arent birds, those are smog paperweights. those arent signs of hope, they are here to take my family away. Cantalope, made out of desert sand. Social credit, made out of lasers and shovels. White treasure mountain, serial killer shovels, anarchist assasins.
I know about the furniture youve placed under the sun, about punching in to work 10 minutes late, about chewing stolen perscription meds that taste like chalk. There is compelling evidence that none of this matters the slightest to the man marking my thesis. Do not sing, i am a good farmer, tokens to refrigerate my past, refrigerate my past. Only vapid self assured pacifiers, winter melons, greyscale downturn. Tyrants toppled and egos killed, the slaughter of vampyric selfishness sucking manic blood. Iron and steel, rice and rations, cloth shoes and batons, battalions of monks, 56 flowers, 56 hearts

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from Demo [2020], released January 5, 2020

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