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letra de reconstruction - wavesword mars

[verse 1]
what does the monarch mean here?
milk bottles for the starving, we’ve got milk bottles for the starving
and gel caps straight from the black market
so essential, alack, to the nasdaq market
who have liquidity purring and halving
amanda’s deprecated 1.2(%) in value in the time
it takes to walk the estate from her door to sayed matthew’s
that’s the offie, offering me what’s embossing me
propping me and slowly offing me
i don’t make love no more, what could be the point?
got no hope of future saviour to anoint
surely have no co regent future of my sheets to appoint
still for a date i’d give up a month of heat in coins
will the government pay me to caress my woman again?
will they relearn me how to love her?
stretch a twenty quid to the light and kiss it
and kiss thy true monarch

[pre-chorus]
knock ’em up, knock ’em down
knock ’em up, knock ’em down

[chorus]
we’re the ones that we’re working for

[verse 2]
it’s summer’s eve and i ain’t well; children play police & thieves
the tower that was their ancestry’s own soon to be rubble
there may be free pills for how long, but still no water
no gas, no place to see off hope, except to cl-ss
my friends cry while they work:
they know not if in relief or
for feeling they can never mean as much
as the emblem upon their worker’s shirt
i wake so close to the morning sky, she could rebuke me
but see, there’s little comfort to be taken from beauty
when i’m closer to the homeless than was my own mother
sinking though we tried so hard just to be stoneless, but i ain’t hopeless:
my tea calls me, to be eaten on the roof, with the views
of the proof of the alternative that i’ve sought since youth
i might smoke as if my soul doth escape any one of my wounds
and i might dance as if drunk on the sky’s eyes made to mine
i believe she and i are mated
and by my rhumba on my lame left her inhibitions are left annihilated
and i might marry me the canopy of her lowest airs
and i might challenge her to carry me to our conjugal lair
and i might end up twelve storeys fallen on the public pavement
was i fated thus for pursuing my love, and so my enslavement?
my agony takes care of itself, then i’m blood
my neighbour washes from the paving

[post-chorus]
a neighbour then hung by the same sign
with which our council cradle was laden
“claimed for reconstruction”

- wavesword mars

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