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Pyrrhon
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The Invisible Hand Holds a Whip
The numbers keep running
Somewhere I can't follow
To redacted transcripts
And data-rich shadows
Oh, I can feel the hands on me
They labor with loving efficiency
To carve away pounds of my flesh
As they comfort me:
'This is how it's supposed to be'
The sources in conflict
Revised and provisional
The havens offshore
The funding's untraceable
But someone's getting paid
And everyone's got a theory
Oh, I can feel the hands on me
Pointing me towards the ones I should hate
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Don't tell'em the maths got minds of their own
They want backs to walls
And blame always finds a home
This isn't what they promised me
Their tide won't lift me back to my feet
Nickels and dimes weighing me down
And plenty of ocean for me to breathe
Ten thousand lashes for our sins
Don't know what I've lost but I feel it missing
Each voice for itself in this chorus of fools
The future's a coda, we're singing the blues
And stealing our notes from the bank of dreams
Whose vaults echo deaf as the tune runs astray
Our number's up
We all gotta pay
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