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lyrics
Touch Paper
Touch paper lit. Flame moves ever closer to fuse. The instructions read ‘stand back’. They can now be found floating through the air, torn up by the mad and resolute that seek reprisal. This manifests itself in the newest of ways; bus fares in Sao Paulo incur the people’s wrath. Most of them were probably cyclists anyway. But tire or foot tracks, it doesn’t matter. They all lead to the same place. A common accent echoes loudly, falling perfectly into tune. I can hear it from where I’m standing; thousands of miles away where the wasters keep on wasting and the advisors always beam with satisfaction due to the inactivity of their subjects. I smell bullshit. I despair. The standby light turns red. Without even thinking my eyes glaze over & my ears digest what the box has to say. Hair and make-up complete, the painted man stares at camera three and critiques… I clench my fist in solidarity. Touch Paper has been lit. You can stand where you like.