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lyrics

Aren’t you the girl with the sickle cell breath?
Haven’t you heard of an entropy death?
Kiosks blown over by the unwritten news:
lynch mobs drowned out by the swamp delta blues.
A passerby testified: a trail to the woods,
dropped by the white stork and raised by the wolves.
Aren’t you the girl, the girl who was named
before you were born but after the hurricane?

Aren’t you the girl who ran around the stands?
In the school photograph, you’re at both ends.
Did you find the butterfly covered in glue
in your janitor tabard and concrete shoes?
Extrapolate postbellum disparities.
Pass me the urn which I use to drink tea.
Aren’t you the girl, the girl who was named
before you were born but after the hurricane?

Witness: the oil spill fuels incarcer-rates.
Witness: a poppy in a field meant for rape.
A founding-father's letter reclaimed from the fire,
a ribboned dream snagged on Solitary's wire.
We sleep like babes though we're covered in stains,
as they find your blood in the senator's drains.
Aren’t you the girl, the girl who was named
before you were born but after the hurricane?

And every footprint that you left was filled.
And every whisper is a force nine wind.
We say that we're sorry, but don't reparate.
We just keep my eye on you...

credits

from PATCHWORK OF DARK (DEMOS), released May 9, 2016

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about

Neil Singh Brighton, UK

Where is the music as dark as the times we are living in? With themes that cover Black Lives Matter, the refugee crisis, pornography, and terrorism, Neil Singh's debut album is a musical critique of empire in the modern day.

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