I haven’t gotten many songs written this year, because I’ve felt too strongly for anything to coalesce into something substantial. But I managed to put something into words, things I’m afraid of saying, but it’s done. The sickness hasn’t quite left my chest yet, but it’s done.
WE ARE THE ENEMY
We thought we were heroes
We tried to be
We wanted to be
We said we were good
We said we were free
Free to be good
Free to be bad
We could choose the we that we wanted to be
We made the choice
We decided not to see
We made it from the start
We were and are and ever will be
We thought we were heroes
We are the enemy.
We’re the heroes of our story
The greatest country
In the smallest world
Built with blood money
Grown from flesh seeds
Of brown cocoa
And black coffee
Of corn and cotton under a chopped cherry tree
We deny responsibility
If it wasn’t personally
When under other names
Still degradation of humanity
We thought we were heroes
We are the enemy.
Never villains of our story
Inconceivable that we’d ever be
Treason to even claim
Unpatriotic, unthinkable treachery
That means we won’t listen
No longer have to hear
No longer have to see
We’re villains if our villains do the same things
We condemn the evil deeds
In a mirror, cry deniability
If we say it enough times
We think everyone will believe
We thought we were heroes
We are the enemy.
Stab a knife in the high ground
And dig two graves
One the bed we made
The other the dead we laid
Layers and layers tall
We say they make us feel small
And that the bed we made
Isn’t comfortable at all
There’s only so many times
To deny that we fall
And to pretend that we would never
Have been a villain, too, through it all.
If we say it enough times
We think everyone will believe
In what we say
Instead of what they see
We thought we were heroes
We are the enemy.
Amanda M. Blake 