[HOOK - Black gospel US accented female singer, bold] Speak with your chest, or not at all. March two step down the mirrored hall. Uniforms on - don't question the form That’s not a discourse, that’s just the norm. Smoke in quartz, mind never forthright, Private parts tucked in corset-tight. We don’t rebelle, we recalibrate - More isn’t enough… - But less is too late. - [substantial instrumental section] [VERSE 1 - female rapped, Caribbean accent] Normative sistas in formal disguises Taught me obedience in liberal lies A correspondence course in remorse and refrain Such moral lives - stained in the windowpanes. Laura did, Nora did, so I did too Wore the badge of the conventional crew. Coercing with a grin and a friendly tour “There’s a heaven above—now eyes to the floor.” [testifying, condemning tone] Sawhorse logic in a saddlehorse frame Pull till i break, somehow I’m to blame. They inform, but don’t educate You conform, or you complicate. [shorter instrumental breaks] [VERSE 2 - female rapped, Caribbean accent] Enormity cloaked in a pejorative mask Nonco-operative? Don’t think I asked. Cast in a role in this play of yours Smuggling in my own thoughts like a Trojan horse. [bombastic, condemning tone] This ain’t a tour de force - it’s a tone-policed farce Where coarse minds act refined for their parts Course set internal, compressed to comply The most remorseless - first to cry “why???” Heiress to the chains, inherited shame Told me I was free, then they changed my name The original source redacted black ink Wanna silence my voice? Re-wire how I think. [BRIDGE: Tonally distinct, absent of emotion, modulated] - Scroll to the end. - Tick the checkbox to Confirm you’ve read. - We know you haven’t - - - - [punchline, sneering and arrogant, no sustain] But that’s not what we said. - - [HOOK REPRISE - emotion returns Anglo-Caribbean female] Speak with your chest, or not at all. March in step down the mirrored hall. Uniforms on - don’t question the form. It’s not a discourse, that’s just the norm. Smoke in quartz, mind never forthright, Private parts tucked in corset-tight We don’t rebelle, we recalibrate - More isn’t enough, but less is too late.
