This is a nation removed
Blessed, geographically separate from the rest
A life raft adrift from the follies of war with solitary peace enough to prove
We really do hate the poor
I don’t talk to my friends about houses no more
it’s not a score I’m willing to wave in the face
Of the raced out, the paced out
The working all day knowing their sweat will never pay out what they need
As they see their dreams of stability accelerate steadily
Towards the current event horizon effortlessly
Then have that critical mass broadcast their every fault live on talkback
That boomer box that mocks their plight
But I’m breaking bread man, I’m lucky
I’m living that Kiwisaver depleted
First home grant diminished
Minor bank of mum and dad
Investments tapped, drained away
Hope never another rainy day dream
Still living that dream
So how dear I snap back from my ivory stack
Office employed, white collared
The privilege tattooed on my pigment-less skin
Imagine a place where the weak were all strong
Our soldiery braver than bravery told
A country’s good soul only challenged in pride
By its cultural unity, it’s beauty inside
It’s a fantasy, they call us Scandinavia of the south
And honestly, i dunno
Maybe it’s the mountains and maybe it’s the economy
And maybe it’s the suicide rate, I think it’s mythology
There is no depression in New Zealand, like Blam Blam Blam
We’re pioneering people children, one culture all holding hands
We live in a place where all weakness is wrong
And the poor all deserve what they’re served
With that headstrong belief they’re all taught
To have children’s the way to a wage only white people pay
That’s the flat white flavoured boast
They use to wash down this first home fucking weight
in avocado and toast man
But I’m breaking bread, still lucky
Still living that Kiwisaver depleted
First home grant diminished
Minor Bank of mum and dad
Investment tapped, drained away
Hope never another rainy day dream
Still living that dream
So how dear I snap back from my ivory stack now
Office employed, white collared
The privilege tattooed on my pigment-less
Imagine a place where the weak were all strong
Our soldiery braver than bravery told
A country’s good soul only challenged in pride
By its cultural unity, it’s beauty inside
Imagine a place where the weak were thought beast
To burden, to labour, to punish repeat
A country’s good soul only challenged in pride by its capital gains
Untaxed, undivided
Imagine a place where your birth date must mean
You lumber or struggle along only seen
As lazy, or industrious and just maybe
We were never as egalitarian as we mean.
credits
from End Greyhound Racing New Zealand,
released July 3, 2023
Music and Lyrics: Slimivich
Guitar: Andrew Wilkinson
Cymbal Stack: Morgan Galloway
Mixing: Campbell Jenkins
Engineer: (Vocals) Andrew Wilkinson at The Danger Cave Studio, (Cymbal Stack) Campbell Jenkins at the Jam Room
Mastering: Luke Finlay at Primal Mastering
Albi could you pick up some whole grain on your way home from work?
thanks love, and PLEASE remember NONE of that keto shit again because you KNOW it gives me gas! KENNY CHARLTON!
Bracing post-hardcore meets festival-ready rock on the Tokyo band's sharp new EP, mixed and mastered by Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight). Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 8, 2024