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lyrics

I am the invisible hand
Of market myth and new urban plans
I’ll tell you something
you don’t fucking understand
We’ll burn this village to save it!
But who here cares to confess their crimes
Not the white flight children
Deployed from the hive
Nightly incursions of drunken diversion
A colonial tourist contagion


I hope you know these words
were meant for you
I hope you know these words
were meant for…


Flunkies goin’ out and gettin’ down
The bar bus runs through Mission town
Flunkies nodding out, stumblin’ around
How banlieue eyes could testify
Flunkies rolling out to drive us out
Like cholera for Selous Scouts
Pacify the populace
Depopulate Necropolis


I am the white right hand
of fascist Falange organization
From quiet suburbs our murmurs
are heard sayin’
‘Take that city and raze it!’
But who remembers Yulanda Ward?
Not the cold HUD computers
Where her memory is stored
They’ll blow any levee
just to drive out the poor
Some call it counterinsurgent containment


I hope you know these
words were meant for you
I hope you know
these words were meant for…


Flunkies goin’ out and gettin’ down
The bar bus runs through Mission town
Flunkies nodding out, stumblin’ around
How banlieue eyes could testify
Flunkies rolling out to drive us out
Like cholera for Selous Scouts
Pacify Necropolis
Inoculate its populace


They’ll send you off in the old pine box
Prepped for Lethe and packed with cedar
Rumored talk of your heads on the block
Now take this message back to your leader
Scatter hearts in shallow plots
Make them earn those wages!
Fuck fantasies of those
With the will to build and fill
Ten thousand Dheisheh cages, but


Time has come
Must go home


Etched is the tome
In every stone thrown
At better Hebron homes:
Yankee Motherfuckers,
Time to find your way home
The clocks have dropped the cover of time.

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