[INTRO] Clearly the proportion Square, level, plumb Boom boom boom Drumming dummy drum Filter saw the fracture Long before this song came They should have paid attention To the angle of searing sun [VERSE 1] Individual ambition clips itself to a petty little peg Peck pecking pecker past the ankle, shin and leg Western norm loves animal farm ladder, loves a winner loves a beggar Makes a whole morality from a twitch inside the head Willingness to peck is also data, without more, a tell A confession in the feathers and the little private hell There is a future coming where no creature gets compelled By the spite of crooked striving and the market-driven spell Somewhere between that kingdom where the king was never pecked And the dawn where all stand level with due diligence intact There is a bridge of bearing, there is discipline of fact Not dominance, but posture when the real aligns the back [PRE-CHORUS] What did they think they were ahead of? They tell the tale with their heart and eyes What phantom throne, what paper crown did they think Pan Fryer sat upon When he was kneeling deep in prayer? If they felt betrayed by nature Why not plainly say it out loud? [CHORUS] They could have paid attention To what Pan Fryer spoke To the bent beam, to bad faith dream To plumb social law Boomer boomed boom Hear the old world hum Dumb dumb dumb they talked about the time value of money these illiterate shit eating liars like they believed in what it meant they didn't just stand in the way they were cruel, and dismissive Arrogant in their pride and vanity No one gets pecked in the future No one crawls for crumbs Filter had the frame in focus (I do want to take your picture) They should have watched what he was looking from [VERSE 2] People love to think the others are simplistic, straight, and small One cause, one flaw, one push, one shove, one stumble, one fall But consciousness complicates it, breaks the puppet's string in all The more awake a person gets, the less mechanical they ball So yes, with most, the drama maps, predictable as rain Pecking circles, tribal tics, resentment, blame, and strain But Pan with heat already in him moves by marrow, not by chain Tilts like a chicken keeping level while the body rides the plane Automatic but not mindless Embodied, tuned, alive Men and women both can learn it Keep deepest axis plumb inside Dominant players rarely needed it Privilege can dull the nerve But the future is us making it on level With the whole due measure served [CHORUS] They could have paid attention To what Pan Fryer spoke To the bent beam, to bad faith dream To plumb social law Boomer boomed boom Hear the old world hum Dumb dumb dumb they talked about the time value of money these illiterate shit eating liars like they believed in what it meant they didn't just stand in the way they were cruel, and dismissive Arrogant in their pride and vanity No one gets pecked in the future No one crawls for crumbs Filter had the frame in focus (I do want to take your picture) They should have watched what he was looking from [VERSE 3] Everyman, true renaissance, hands in soil sometimes tighten wire Tiny western communities need sanctified local small humble fire Integrate automation with the household and the choir Algorithmic coexistence with the neighbor and plumb spire Local synergy, practical divinity, systems built to reduce drag Less overhead, more presence, zero parasites brag That is how you square a culture, that is how you true the flag That is how you stop the future being pawned in plastic bags So Pan disrupts the plan sometimes Because stagnation is a crime Somebody has to break the rhythm When the rhythm serves decline Some wonderful women thought he marched right past their gate Never weighed the public warning, never heard the ancient ache He had to climb where he could cry for generations left too late Into rooms that never touched the wreckage grinding through the base [BREAKDOWN] Not sorry but still sorry to every lady Not for rising but in that our era stole from both of us I was naming what was there Genetics is no license To betray the earth and every species Your genome is an echo, a branch of a tree Of the worm and of the mire, swamp and forest Tiny gut-born tyrants tugging At the chemistry of desire Most western stress is self-induced A loop, a lure, a lie A furnace built of false prestige Then blamed upon the sky [BUILD] Cry out loud for lost generations Into insulated little nations Shake the network, split the station Make a path through stagnation Key key key Turn the hinge and let it be See see see What the whole earth needs to see [FINAL CHORUS] They should have paid attention To what Pan Fryer saw To the warped board, to the false lord To the self-inflicted flaw Boom boom boom Let the real bell drum Dumb dumb dumb Watch old masks come undone No one gets pecked in the future Level life for everyone Filter held the sightline steady Pan Fryer takes a picture!
