Hear ye! Hear ye! Where is the mother of her mother? Or the daughter of her mother? Where are her sisters and brothers? Someone get that invisible husband Married to God, he became a minister She was left a maddened spinster A maddened mother to a brother and sister. Hear ye! Hear ye! Why do you falter at her sight? Out of sight, out of mind She is out of mind, out of sight Day goes by, night goes by Stander-by at ease alert Pretend you do not see that pretty sight Day goes by, night comes again You say you do not care for the brain dead Yet you say her food tastes great Brain dead autonomy remains Only when it suits you best You useless daughter parading your morals "Anubis, a broken feather for a broken heart." Even when half justice has to be kept You cannot wrong others in pain Lashing venom, which venom, are you a snake? Or are you Eve in that fateful garden What of the fruit, miss woman? What of the knowledge, miss woman? You betrayed paradise for it, so what of it miss woman? Bear another child, miss woman The first is not enough miss woman A daughter of your kind miss woman She looks at you as she adjusts Anubis' scale, miss woman She thinks you should be perfect miss woman Wipe your tears miss woman Kill your brain miss woman To keep away pain miss woman Do not be fucking insane miss woman Your daughter is more insane miss woman Brain too alive, allotted sanity eaten up by the abnormality she reared since young Conditioning, extreme conditioning, conditioned stupidity it comes up as a reflex, like it is ingrained in the anatomy Hop to the skies for her mother Hope to the stars for her mother Kill what her mother is for her mother Kill what she is for her mother Conditioned conditioning, perfect image needs extreme conditioned conditioning The type that lets you be nocturnal Writing pain away, with the rhythm set by rats in the dark screeching away Screech, screech, screech the black plague away Cursed. Cursed or is it a butterfly effect of choices Unlucky or incompetent to have your fruits taken away by those who laboured so as to take other labourer's fruits away You reap what you sow, well you should have sown the position of village headman "Women to the left, men to the right" I lead you follow, give me yours, mine is mine What about my mother's? The maddened daughter cries for her maddened mother What about my daughter’s? The maddened mother cries for her maddened daughter The father still a minister, a missionary, a man who follows God's heart So much that he becomes invisible and unseen Shine, shine man of God's heart If you reap heaven, ask for a new brain for your maddened daughter's maddened mother Hers is a spoil of war, spoilt by war Bring her back her shining heart and shining smile Or you can bring her some abrasive words Stronger than what her daughter has To scrub the one she has of the filth and blood from war Now, now bring it all now Mothers have to be happy for their daughters As daughters have to be happy for their mothers A dangerous see saw, if you see it come with a saw This wooden horse sows discord it must atone Cut it, cut it down! Leave us sprawled on the grass Leave us, leave us like they all have done Have they all done? Or is it the brain on its own that sows discord? Kill the brain, it must atone Do not be insane you must atone.