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When the maiden ****** the whore,
Took the old crone's name in vain,
Said, "Oh my God, what insidious sin,
To spread repression and shame",
My body is no temple,
Not the site for your exchange,
Send the scribes and the moneylenders,
Well out of range,
I am not polished marble,
Built to the proportions of man,
You can wail at my walls,
All that you want,
But I'll never be your land.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
White women are taught of sin,
Enchained by the reins,
Handed by high tech business men,
For population gain,
While...
Bodies of color,
Or built, broken and bent,
Will be battered through a keyhole,
Corrected, killed and spent,
Economic sanctions,
Forced sterilization,
Will keep the population,
To an amenable minimum.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
As the people sow the land,
The cavalry comes down,
To undermine autonomy,
Force their seed into the ground,
But they can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand,
They despise and defy you,
Not your body, not your land.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
Not your body, not your land,
We can see right through you,
And your invisible left hand.
Don't try to inscribe,
(Not your body),
Your social mores on me,
(Not your land),
I don't subscribe to your beliefs,
(We can see right through you),
I don't believe in your piety,
(And your invisible left hand).
Don't try to inscribe,
(Not your body),
Your social mores on me,
(Not your land),
I don't subscribe to your beliefs,
(We can see right through you),
I don't believe in your piety,
(And your invisible left hand).
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