To the Barricades!

Unconscious of echoing tragedy we line up to join the parade
 but our elbows are stuck in the mud again and our houses have all flown away
 there's a song that we've thrown from corpse to corpse in the fleshed that we carry with us
 it's written in caches of serpentine in tunnels and grey pigeons nests
 who do you turn to?
 treads of the tank searchlight the street scratched of the lists ash and the heat
 throwing the kitchen knives off of the roof
 but when they look up to the house-tops there's no one to shoot
 but w broke through the curfew and into the street
 if we let them take anything they'll take everything
 they laughed when my aunt won the lottery
 they laughed when the cattle cars came
 they shot me for stealing a crust of bread but they gave me a loaf when I begged