Panopticon Emma's Song
Salt in the fields.
harvest iniquity.
Is this how we show we care?
Obligation, grief and despair?
The roots are poisoned
dig in the earth.
The bounty you've sewn.
Restricted wings... wedding rings
The roots are poisoned
In their hair there are no braids.
Slaves who refuse to serve their masters.
Your evening obligation is the soil that stains your
face.
When I'm burned alive, will you go down in flames?
What freedoms are denied you?
Other than the right to breathe?
What expectations are placed on you?
Conform, discard, dilute..
The roots are poisoned
