about
Nationalism or the idea of greatness and exceptionalism surrounding certain countries and their peoples only exists in its juxtaposition to others deemed “less great,” or less worthy. This concept, manufactured, necessarily divisive and laden with violence in all its forms, has been mobilized to justify the subjugation and suppression of innumerable places and people by a number of states in their endless trajectory forward to feed the unsated appetites of those without conscience or consequence. Immanent to this idea is the constant jingoism that endeavors to legitimate itself via the dominant institutions that condition and discipline their subjects. Yet there are forces always keen to this façade, subverting its legitimacy by exposing the tenuous strings that clumsily hold its suspension. Names are unimportant in sharp contrast to the significance and faith unduly placed in the idolization of symbols with no substance. The gluttonous organism is infected. It breeds its own disease, ironically its only virtue, the life that’s freed from its death.
lyrics
*****Nationalism or the idea of greatness and exceptionalism surrounding certain countries and their peoples only exists in its juxtaposition to others deemed “less great,” or less worthy. This concept, manufactured, necessarily divisive and laden with violence in all its forms, has been mobilized to justify the subjugation and suppression of innumerable places and people by a number of states in their endless trajectory forward to feed the unsated appetites of those without conscience or consequence. Immanent to this idea is the constant jingoism that endeavors to legitimate itself via the dominant institutions that condition and discipline their subjects. Yet there are forces always keen to this façade, subverting its legitimacy by exposing the tenuous strings that clumsily hold its suspension. Names are unimportant in sharp contrast to the significance and faith unduly placed in the idolization of symbols with no substance. The gluttonous organism is infected. It breeds its own disease, ironically its only virtue, the life that’s freed from its death..******
Mr. Rockefeller, welcome to your children’s empty womb
You’ve bled out the stomach, kept off the grass
It’s time to bolster down this tomb
You can count on a grave, to bury a body
You’ll never cover up a dream
You can only get so fat off of ill-intentions
Until you’re bursting out the seems
Welcome to a country without a name
Welcome to the last vestige of a country without a name
credits
from
Demo,
released October 30, 2015
license
all rights reserved
