The Quiet That Kills

Washing my hands in the kitchen sink
400 years of blood
Washing my hands in the kitchen sink with the finest soap

Who are your gods?
Are they on their way here?
Who are your gods?
Won’t you summon them dear?

No, man
You don’t buy it
No, man
It’s a riot
Yes sir
That’s the quiet that kills
Put on my face and I braid my hair
400 years of theft
Put on my face and I braid my hair, spray the number nine

Who are your gods?
Do they see what we do?
Who are your gods?
Are they in denial too?

No, man
You don’t buy it
No, man
It’s a riot
Yes sir
That’s the quiet that kills

We colonize a space and time
Gouging out my pale blue eyes
Dignity spared for the guns and shrines
Who are your gods
Who are your gods
Who are your gods

Who are your gods?
Do they know what we’ve done?
Who are your gods?
Did they see us and run?

No, man
You’re still quiet?
No, man
You’re compliant
Yes sir
That’s the quiet that kills

Yes sir
That’s the quiet that kills