Are we the ones left behind by those who weave cords that bind?
They draw the marrow from our very bones and we in turn, turn on our own.

Stood in line in horsehair shirts we queued up to eat the dirt,
We traded lumps on narrow streets, can’t bite the hand when you’ve no teeth.

And it’s a standing ovation for the shadow of a stone
As we dig into the soil beneath our homes.
The future’s further day-by-day as our fathers turn away
And leave us clinging to a mother who eats her own.

The granite gaze upon us now, a skulking mass recalling how
To plant a secret and tell no lies for now we own those same stone eyes.

And it’s the last gasp of wonder for a cretin on a throne
As our daughter’s sneak away across the foam,
The future’s just a thing we say to keep the sordid past at bay
Still we cling on to the mother who eats her own.

We are the ones left behind in swaddling bound with bailing twine,
They stole the marrow from our very bones and we in turn, turned on our own.