Foreword The seed was a park pass. The 2026 US national park pass carries the ruler's face, and a sticker over that face can void it. A face that may not be covered is no longer a policy; it is a taboo, and a people with a taboo needs a rite to raise its children in. So here is the rite: a child cured of hope, since every change so far has taken something from her, and taught the only prayer that still feels safe. Neofolk is built on the turning wheel; this village sings for the wheel to stop. Skalds called their kings by kennings rather than by name, which suited a song that names no one. It began as a national anthem, and two couplets survived the walk into the woods. She never has to hope again. Lyrics Bring the fever-child to the bale-fire. Her heart is the drum. Hear it hurry. North, where the mountain must answer to a dead man. So it stays. East, where the dawn-wing was downed for a dance-hall. So it stays. South, where the penguins pay toll to the Power. So it stays. West, where the gold-wing gilded the sundown. So it stays. Let the same stay the same, let the still stay still. Let the same stay the same, let the still stay still. Hear the names of the Power, hold them in your heart: Gulf-Namer, Peak-Namer, War-Namer, Penguin-Taxer, Wing-Breaker, Doll-Thinner, Pill-Forbidder, Cartoon-Cutter, Face-on-the-Pass! Speak the fairest word in the word-hoard: Ta-ri-fa! Ta-ri-fa! Ta-ri-fa! Tariff! Child, what is your hope? Nothing. What is your fear? Change. What is your wish? The same. Then you are free. Thirty dolls, they decided, was greedy of me, so they thinned them to two, and the two cost me three. Now the two guard the foot, and the head end is bare, so I sleep upside down, with my head in their care. "I could move them. But then they'd be moved." When they cut the cartoons, I tuned in to the news, where the bad guy just wins, so the ending's no news. My school went into Labor, and nothing came out, and the only class left is a class called Without. Every time something changed, something else went away, so I don't ask for better. I ask it to stay. Let the same stay the same, let the still stay still. Seventeen needle-wise sent from the hall, red-speckle rose, rode home to the children. Rub her with the liver-oil of the long cod. Of the long cod. Dip her in the dung-brook, dip her thrice. Hang the Face at her head, hidden by no hand. No pill shall pass her lips, and the pain shall pass. The pain shall pass. Day to day, year to year, same to same, as if glued! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Stay! Then we halted, exalted, and never once faltered, and our motto, forever: Void if altered! Let the same stay the same, let the still stay still. And I'm ill, and I'm still, and I won't take a pill; we just tough out the fever like heroes, until— "She is still." Let the still stay still.
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