The Rot

I've seen rows of plastic bags with blood soaking into the dirty mud And others for whom there was no bag Wrapped in rags or tent canvas I've seen captives forced to dig a hole to which their bodies soon would go The writing's there, red blood on the white wall What do you see? — I see nothing at all. I've heard bombs a-falling, drones buzzing all day A shot boy calling to his brother in pain Crawling to him on what had been the way They took to school and now it's their grave I've heard mothers and fathers and children cry Burning to death at the safe zone site To which they were rushed from their homes in the night But your earbuds are loud, and the playlist's right A distaste in my mouth while they cannot taste A meal for weeks and water for days Cut off from help by an apartheid state Soldiers in trucks disguised as aid Flour massacre, serving death not food In that HD video that you viewed Made you uncomfortable, so you just don't look And take another drink to fix your mood I smell the rot in your heart They smell rot in the air You think you're so smart with your debates on despair Intellectual rats in a race To protect the oppressor from being oppressed Propaganda suits your every suit Your voice is well heard over the ones you mute You keep your distance, you're not a recruit Still you smell of death as much as the ones who shoot Soft couch where you sit against the burning sand You know what's going on, you just choose to pretend That everything's fine when the truth is banned By the government of the stolen land And I guess it takes a white face with no brain To claim ownership over the rain Colonial blood might flow through your vein But it's up to you not to cause more pain