Feel good for a minute then implode As the lack of an aphorism sticks in your throat with ire Depose your vernacular, argot It's a question of rust It's a question of trust It's a question of everything you've ever been told. Minimum culture, minimal wage I'm an onion peel my layers back Minimum silence, minimal change I'm an honest man, depths my tears lack And if there's love, let me know Because I want you to come and put the beauty back Blurred vision and the hobble of thick prose Why empower misogyny while violence towards women grows? But this filth stands on a quicker sand Next to cold hard fear and the deeds of man The abuse of body image as a form of control And the typical portrayal of the feminine role I have never been more appalled. Pick me up with rhythms and waveform That can symbolise a culture lost Sing about the future like you mean to I'm never going to count costs Question the agenda of an industry That only can objectify You write about a non-existent blurred line But not about abortion rights