Did You Have Something To Do With It
This is our time
The legacy of greed has grown from its seed
To infiltrate every place, every face
Releasing a suffering recorded in stone
And in bone
So old that language can't console it
This was the blow which we struck
At first without knowing how deep it would grow
It would grow
Into a frightening history that fractures hope
First, by attacking the body
And then, by distorting the mind
It would grow
And force us to question whether we are a part
Of this world or its affliction
Whether our addiction to power
Will consume the beauty
That was once our birthright
This is our time
What is certain, is life
Growing out of itself greater than the moment before
Within us, around us, in spite of us
Proving we can't control
The thing that brought us up from the cold
And will press us back like flowers into the mold
We are tethered to a circuit that excludes nothing
A song the dead can hear
Something resilient forming all
Something that makes time small
So old, that language can't dispose of it
Still gold over the violence
Don't forget, this too, this too, is our time
Our spirit is not weaker
It is waiting on us to decide
What it is, that we will honour
While we are alive
The legacy of greed has grown from its seed
To infiltrate every place, every face
Releasing a suffering recorded in stone
And in bone
So old that language can't console it
This was the blow which we struck
At first without knowing how deep it would grow
It would grow
Into a frightening history that fractures hope
First, by attacking the body
And then, by distorting the mind
It would grow
And force us to question whether we are a part
Of this world or its affliction
Whether our addiction to power
Will consume the beauty
That was once our birthright
This is our time
What is certain, is life
Growing out of itself greater than the moment before
Within us, around us, in spite of us
Proving we can't control
The thing that brought us up from the cold
And will press us back like flowers into the mold
We are tethered to a circuit that excludes nothing
A song the dead can hear
Something resilient forming all
Something that makes time small
So old, that language can't dispose of it
Still gold over the violence
Don't forget, this too, this too, is our time
Our spirit is not weaker
It is waiting on us to decide
What it is, that we will honour
While we are alive
Credits
Writer(s): Sylvie Rose Nehill, Takiaya Reed, Minori-sanchiz Fung
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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