Bless You (They Heard That)

90s East Coast Boom Bap, unraveling street intellectual who started a poem and accidentally discovered the truth, chopped dusty soul loop built around a single repeated piano note that keeps arriving slightly too early — obsessive, unresolved, like a thought you can't finish, MPC2000XL drums with maximum drag, kick landing like a verdict, snare cracking sharp and sudden like — well — like a sneeze, Hi-hats skitter in irregular bursts, Bass rumbles underneath everything, patient and certain, Random nasal exhale sound buried deep in the drum layer, barely audible, present on every fourth bar, Woozy vinyl pitch drift throughout, Production feels like a man who sat down to write a poem about his grandmother and stood up knowing too much, Vocal: spoken word dignity that cracks into ranting by bar four, tender when discussing his grandmother, furious when discussing the nasal cavity, oscillating without warning, falsetto appears only once and it's the most vulnerable moment in the song, [Voc

Why does your whole body stop
Every single function
Shuts down simultaneously
For one point seven seconds
While something passes through you
And exits
Making a sound
That your body did not choose to make
(you didn't choose that)
My kindergarten teacher Mrs. Patterson
God rest her beautiful soul
Told us sneezing was the body cleaning itself
And I wrote that down
I believed that woman for thirty-four years
I put it in a report in the fourth grade
Got a B-plus on that report
(B-plus, baby)
Last year I found that report in my mother's closet
And I held it and I said
I am so sorry
Because Mrs. Patterson was a sweet woman
Who was herself a victim
Of a government-approved explanation
Designed to prevent exactly this conversation
From happening
(this conversation right here)
Because the body does not clean itself through the face
At one-hundred-and-sixty-seven miles per hour
(one sixty-seven, documented)
That is not cleaning
That is a hard reset
Triggered remotely
While you were in the middle of something
(while you were in the middle of something important)

Every time you sneeze
Something checked your system
Every time you sneeze
(every single time)
You were briefly
Not
Here

Bless you! (bless you!)
That's what we say but we don't know why we say it
Bless you!
Because your SOUL LEFT YOUR BODY for a second
And something reached in
And pressed a button
That only they can press
(only THEY can press it, baby)
One point seven seconds, offline, rebooted
Your whole self — wiped and reloaded
And you just said "excuse me"
And went back to your sandwich
EXCUSE ME
(excuse me, baby)
Bless you

Now I sneezed three times in a row last April
Back-to-back-to-back, no warning, no reason
And I lost eleven minutes
(eleven minutes)
I checked my phone — eleven minutes gone
I was standing in my kitchen
I was making oatmeal
The oatmeal was cold
The stove was off
I don't remember turning off the stove
(I don't remember that)
I called my doctor, she said "allergies"
I said "Doctor Ferreira, I need you to look me in the eye
And tell me allergies take eleven minutes"
She looked me in the eye
And said "allergies"
(just said allergies)
And I saw something behind her eyes that I recognized
Because I'd seen it before
On the face of every person
Who has been told to say "allergies"
When someone gets too close
(too close to the truth)
I went home and I researched the vagus nerve
The trigeminal nerve, the photic sneeze reflex
The fact that ten to thirty-five percent of people
Sneeze when they look at bright light
(when they look at the SUN, baby)
The sun
That we are pointed at
Every morning
Like we're being scanned at checkout
(beep)
You tell me that's a coincidence
With a straight face
You tell me

When I was seven
My grandmother sneezed at Sunday dinner
And she didn't come back right
(she didn't come back right)
Everybody laughed because she knocked over the gravy
But I watched her eyes
For about four seconds after
She was looking at us like she was
Remembering who we were
(remembering who we were)
Like she'd been somewhere else
And was finding her way back
To the table
To the gravy
To us
(back to us, baby)
I didn't have the language for it then
I was seven
I just knew something had happened
That nobody was going to talk about
And I held her hand under the table
And she squeezed it
(she squeezed it)
And I think —
I think in that moment she knew
I had seen it
And she was saying
(falsetto, intimate, fragile)
I'm back now, baby
I'm back

You know why we say bless you
When someone sneezes
Nobody actually knows why
(nobody knows)
The Romans thought the soul escaped through the nose
The Greeks thought it was a prophecy
Medieval Europeans thought it was the devil leaving
Every civilization
Independently
Every civilization
Independently

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I want to talk tonight About something that has been with us Since before recorded history Something so common So unremarkable So deeply embedded in the human experience That we stopped asking the question That we should have never Stopped Asking The question is — Why Why does your whole body stop Every single function Shuts down simultaneously For one point seven seconds While something passes through you And exits Making a sound That your body did not choose to make (you didn't choose that) My kindergarten teacher Mrs. Patterson God rest her beautiful soul Told us sneezing was the body cleaning itself And I wrote that down I believed that woman for thirty-four years I put it in a report in the fourth grade Got a B-plus on that report (B-plus, baby) Last year I found that report in my mother's closet And I held it and I said I am so sorry Because Mrs. Patterson was a sweet woman Who was herself a victim Of a government-approved explanation Designed to prevent exactly this conversation From happening (this conversation right here) Because the body does not clean itself through the face At one-hundred-and-sixty-seven miles per hour (one sixty-seven, documented) That is not cleaning That is a hard reset Triggered remotely While you were in the middle of something (while you were in the middle of something important) Every time you sneeze Something checked your system Every time you sneeze (every single time) You were briefly Not Here Bless you! (bless you!) That's what we say but we don't know why we say it Bless you! Because your SOUL LEFT YOUR BODY for a second And something reached in And pressed a button That only they can press (only THEY can press it, baby) One point seven seconds, offline, rebooted Your whole self — wiped and reloaded And you just said "excuse me" And went back to your sandwich EXCUSE ME (excuse me, baby) Bless you Now I sneezed three times in a row last April Back-to-back-to-back, no warning, no reason And I lost eleven minutes (eleven minutes) I checked my phone — eleven minutes gone I was standing in my kitchen I was making oatmeal The oatmeal was cold The stove was off I don't remember turning off the stove (I don't remember that) I called my doctor, she said "allergies" I said "Doctor Ferreira, I need you to look me in the eye And tell me allergies take eleven minutes" She looked me in the eye And said "allergies" (just said allergies) And I saw something behind her eyes that I recognized Because I'd seen it before On the face of every person Who has been told to say "allergies" When someone gets too close (too close to the truth) I went home and I researched the vagus nerve The trigeminal nerve, the photic sneeze reflex The fact that ten to thirty-five percent of people Sneeze when they look at bright light (when they look at the SUN, baby) The sun That we are pointed at Every morning Like we're being scanned at checkout (beep) You tell me that's a coincidence With a straight face You tell me When I was seven My grandmother sneezed at Sunday dinner And she didn't come back right (she didn't come back right) Everybody laughed because she knocked over the gravy But I watched her eyes For about four seconds after She was looking at us like she was Remembering who we were (remembering who we were) Like she'd been somewhere else And was finding her way back To the table To the gravy To us (back to us, baby) I didn't have the language for it then I was seven I just knew something had happened That nobody was going to talk about And I held her hand under the table And she squeezed it (she squeezed it) And I think — I think in that moment she knew I had seen it And she was saying (falsetto, intimate, fragile) I'm back now, baby I'm back Bless you! (bless you!) That's what we say but we don't know why we say it Bless you! Because your SOUL LEFT YOUR BODY for a second And something reached in And pressed a button That only they can press (only THEY can press it, baby) One point seven seconds, offline, rebooted Your whole self — wiped and reloaded And you just said "excuse me" And went back to your sandwich EXCUSE ME (excuse me, baby) Bless you You know why we say bless you When someone sneezes Nobody actually knows why (nobody knows) The Romans thought the soul escaped through the nose The Greeks thought it was a prophecy Medieval Europeans thought it was the devil leaving Every civilization Independently Every civilization Independently

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