Blood of My Blood

Blood of my Blood

Blood of my blood
They know not what they do
Hold your tongue carefully
Because it is sharp
And swordplay is an endangered art

Blood of my blood
Your words can cut deep
In the dialect of opposition
When you strike and protest
Against your involuntary education
in the language of "just this"
We have never settled for "just this."

Two words wrapped over and over
Interwoven into complacency
Lacing the fibers
Crafting the rope
That they formed into noose
A destiny knot that tightened the cord
Suspending the bridge
That spans our generational gap
One end wrapped your neck
The other my ankle
I am hanging on every word
That comes from your throat

Blood of my blood
They have turned us against each other
Tethered past to present
Like chain to shackle
Every time you bend your neck up
I am dragged down
Every time I walk forward
The rope squeezes tighter
To strain your lambskin lungs

We must
Adjust our behavior
Adjust to their social control
And in becoming instruments of our own regulation
In turn become instruments of our own oppression as well

Blood of my blood
You will never run dry
You will sluice the sewers
And leave stains in the streets
As long as people are learning the language
of "just this"
Blood of my blood on their hands you will be
Blood of my blood on my hands you have been.