Grind

They’re bout to set me off, you better not get involved

Trynna keep me silent, it’s high time that I talk

Hide behind smiles while thunder storms in my thoughts

The images of evil I never seen it before

Art called into question, our medicine fallen short

The price of people pleasing is lying before the court 

I learned to walk the line, I can show you how we were taut

But if you’re born without a spine, you surely got no support

Dark times truly, my NAIDOC was troublesome 

How could I thrive in the consequence of the gobernment

Lotta folk tricky but not as wicked as some of them

Collar crime, settlers colonise what’s in front of them

There’s a dark past, it mumble under the bitumen 

Whispers in the cracks of the floorboards are seepin’ in,

The same spirit that emanate from your screen in bed

Bearing such a truth that is never letting us sleep again

I’ve seen too much on my screen to ignore

My faith fallen weak, and my spirit is sore

The blood is on the wall, but they piss on the floors

I will argue no more with all your theory wars

In 80 years time, will they speak on your cause?

Will they read what you wrote, will they see what you saw?

Is your work of any worth, are you deserving of sleep?

What legacy do you leave? Are you a leader at all?

I recognise my pressure conditioned by government design

Lip service puppetry crab bucket, they set the time

Track the eye, fall for the ads, and disconnect the mind

Lead the blind, 8 buck cap, slap on a dollar sign 

Traffic if you can’t pay it back, then you can cop the fine

took the brakes and ripped off the pads

Now we call it the grind.