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Rumours Of Peace

from Talking About My Genitalia by DMPH

/

lyrics

RUMOURS OF PEACE

The voice crackled as it said
through the speaker overhead,
“You’ve half an hour, no more, no less,
to smoke and stretch your legs.
Don’t be late ’cos I won’t wait
if we’re to make our destination.”

We got off. I looked back
in the heavy tyre tracks:
A tired bird we hit and killed
has become a meal
for other birds, maybe its brothers and sisters.
I stroke my sores and blisters
- listless, on auto-pilot, no thought.
I crap and wash from a tap
stuttering brown water.
Brown water.

Where we came from - a godmade hell;
where we’re heading - who can tell?
Fear is my blanket, hunger has me numb,
senses dull as the chewing gum
that has bored my tongue.
No songs, no poetry,
no paintings or photography
can convey what I feel and see.
Nothing means nothing to me.

Being driven from our home
to a scary somewhere unknown,
the cracked mirror reflects
puking smoke and life’s rejects.
Shrinking silhouettes grieve
on the pile of stones, once home, they won’t leave.
The roar of the killing machines
drown out rumours of peace
drown out rumours of peace
drown out rumours of peace
drown out rumours of peace.

credits

from Talking About My Genitalia, released April 1, 2020

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