Recipe for Madness

They're selling submission in a pastel package now Call it "traditional" when you're backing down Apron strings like nooses, but make it aesthetic Instagram the cage, call the trap "domestic" Bake your own shackles, film it for the 'gram "Back to basics" really means "back to his plan" Lipstick on obedience, call it feminine grace Put a bow on your silence, a smile on your face They want you soft, they want you sweet They want you grateful and petite Package oppression as a choice Then punish you for having a voice This ain't nostalgia, it's a regression sale Dress up your cage but you're still in jail Call it divine, call it natural order They're just scared of women who cross the border Of what they allow, of what they permit New packaging, same old shit "Traditional values", whose tradition exactly? The one where we couldn't vote? Oh, so romantic Cosplay the fifties without the full picture Delete all the parts that would make you reconsider Barefoot and pregnant was never the dream It was just the only option in their regime Now they're rebranding it as empowerment While taking your power, that's the real endowment You can love cooking without serving You can love home without deserving less You can be soft without being subservient This isn't liberation, it's just different chains, mess This ain't nostalgia, it's a regression sale Polish your cage but you're still in jail Call it fulfillment, call it sacred duty They're just scared of women who see through the beauty The performance, the script, the gilded cage door We've escaped this before, won't go back anymore Keep your aesthetic, I'll keep my autonomy Keep your performance, I'll keep my agency You can film your servitude in golden hour light Doesn't make it freedom, doesn't make it right