Tunnel Vision

Kate Tempest
Lingua: Inglese

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Nell'album intitolato “Let Them Eat Chaos”
Testo ripreso da Genius

Let Them Eat Chaos, la copertina di Peter Kennard

Let Them Eat Chaos è un ritratto di sette persone che alle 4.18 di mattina sono sveglie nei loro appartamenti nel sud di Londra. Non sono poveri né ricchi, ma sono immersi nel caos delle loro esistenze. Il che non può essere che dovuto a un caos più generale che è là fuori, nel mondo della politica e della società. […] Le storie private sono escamotage per parlare di una società malata, persa. […]

L’ultima traccia, ‘Tunnel Vision’, ha il compito di lasciare l’ascoltatore con un sentimento meno amaro. È una vera chiamata alle armi, a vivere le nostre vite da svegli, a prenderci le responsabilità per quelle azioni che rendono il mondo malato («Sono state le nostre bombe a iniziare questa guerra che ora infuria molto lontano… Sono state le nostre imbarcazioni a navigare per uccidere, rubare e annientare… Sono stati i nostri stivali a percuotere il suolo. Sono stati i nostri tribunali ad imprigionare. E sono state le nostre fottute banche ad essere salvate...»). «Giustizia, giustizia, riparazione, umiltà. La fiducia, la fiducia è qualcosa che non vedremo mai fino a quando l’amore non sarà incondizionato. Il mito dell'individuo ci ha dissolti, persi e resi pietosi. Sono fuori sotto la pioggia. È una notte fredda a Londra. E sto urlando ai miei cari di svegliarsi e amare di più. Sto supplicando i miei cari di svegliarsi e amare di più.» è il messaggio che, per quanto lievemente retorico, suona potente nella struttura complessiva del disco.”
(dalla recensione di Nino Ciglio su Sentireascoltare)
Indigenous apocalypse, decimated forest, the Winter of our discontent’s upon us
Desolate apostles, left with Strongbow at the crossroads
We are nothing but an eating mouth, oesophagus, colossal
We won’t stop until we’ve beaten down the planet into pellets
Before the interstellar mission to inflict more terror
It’s killing me, it’s killing me, it’s filling me, I’m vomiting, it’s still in me
Everything is fine really, silly me
Poor kids shot dead, poor kids locked up
Poor kids saying, “This is the future that you left us?”
Stopped up lunch meat, processed, punch from an unclean fatcat
Tasty, tasty poison
Carcinogenic, diabetic, asthmatic, epileptic, post-traumatic, bipolar and disaffected
Atomised, thinking we’re engaged when we’re pacified
Staring at the screen so we don’t have to see the planet die

What we gonna do to wake up?
We sleep so deep, it don’t matter how they shake us
If we can’t face it, we can’t escape it
But tonight the storm’s come

She’s screaming, she’s screaming
The drones turned her beautiful boy into a pile of bones
No body to bury, nobody is home
Running from war, the boat’s full, the boat’s sinking a mile off shore
No beds in the hospitals, our minds are against us
Imagine your daughter was gunned down defenceless on her way to school
There’d be uproar
But she’s collateral damage, it doesn’t matter
Now if our kids are fine, that’s enough for us
You can’t love into a vacuum, there’s got to be a limit
Welcome to the biggest crime that’s ever been committed
You think you and I are different kinds, you’re caught up in specifics
You and I apart are easier to limit
The illusion’s so complete it’s impossible to bring it into focus
Cinematic stock footage, you think people are locusts
Uniform men keep unleashing explosives

What we gonna do to wake up?
We sleep so deep, it don’t matter how they shake us
If we can’t face it, we can’t escape it
But tonight the storm’s come

Tunnel vision, tunnel vision
Work, drinks, heartbreak
You can’t face the past, the past’s a dark place
Can’t sleep, can’t wake, sitting in our boxes
Notching up our victories as other people’s losses
Another day, another chance to turn your face away from pain
Let’s get a takeaway
And meet me in the pub a little later, we’ll say the same things as ever
Life’s a waiting game
When we gonna see that life is happening?
And that every single body bleeding on its knees is an abomination
And every natural being is making communication
And we’re just sparks, tiny parts of a bigger constellation
We’re miniscule molecules that make up one body
You see the tragedy and pain of a person that you’ve never met
Is present in your nightmares, in your pull towards despair
And the sickness of the culture, and the sickness in our hearts
Is a sickness that’s inflicted by this distance that we share
Now, it was our bombs that started this war
And now it rages far away
So we dismiss all its victims as strangers
But they’re parents and children made dogs by the danger
Existence is futile, so we don’t engage
But it was our boats that sailed, killed, stole, and made frail
It was our boots that stamped
It was our courts that jailed
And it was our fuckin’ banks that got bailed
It was us who turned bleakly away
Looked back down at our nails and our wedding plans
In the face of a full-force gale, we said
“Well, it’s not up to us to make this place a better land
It’s not up to us to make this place a better land.”
Justice, justice, recompense, humility
Trust is, trust is something we will never see
Till love is unconditional
The myth of the individual has left us disconnected, lost, and pitiful
I’m out in the rain
It’s a cold night in London
And I’m screaming at my loved ones to wake up and love more
I’m pleading with my loved ones to wake up and love more

inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 30/5/2018 - 09:47

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