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Demonstration I

by Practitioner

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1.
(Intro) 00:31
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2.
Rabbit Season 02:26
lyrics
we went hunting in the wrong forest we went hunting on all fours rabbit season all this violence never ceases rats and wolves in rabbit season slapstick rifles, circled reason rats and wolves in rabbit season burn this temple to the ground it's rotted out leave the rats to to the wolves leave the wolves to hunter let the hunter make his choice let our choices follow us
3.
Theme From M.A.S.H. 01:37
lyrics
your knives just won't do until you kill the part of you that lies lies in wait to fall in line driving across state lines looking to start a fight your mask just can't hide all the hate you have inside kill the fascist in your heart fight for love
4.
It's Not Worth the Salt In Your Blood 01:45
lyrics
there's a tower made of ice and only one way to climb in the salt in the blood in the body next to you there's a tower made of ice and only one way to climb in the salt in the blood on the sole of your shoe no there's nothing in the tower worth the salt in your blood i want to know who you'll kill to survive i want to know if you can look them in the eye
5.
Utopia Is the Negation of Place 01:42
lyrics
burn down the past leave the future with nothing they'll love our empty hands guards change the tomb stays the same gods change hell stays the same
6.
Thoughts and Prayers 02:58
lyrics
they shoot to kill they've been stocking up for years stoking hate, spreading fear thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers you're not going to talk your way out of this one

about

Poetry, after all, is barbaric. After everything--after Aushwitz, after America, after the world to come--poetry is foreign to itself, reduced to babbling brutality. Nevertheless, choose your words carefully, even the illegible ones. Especially the illegible ones. What will we do when there’s nothing hidden left, after everything has been revealed? That’s apocalypse, after all. We became so enamored with the apparatus of observation that the worm beneath the slide was forgotten. We went hunting on all fours, digging in the dirt. We went hunting in the wrong forest and killed a sacred deer, so are asked to make an impossible choice. None of this without meaning, it just becomes foreign to itself. Poetry is barbaric. Did you hear the one about the falconer? Turning and turning: this thing comes in cycles, after all. A revolution, another turn of the same wheel. Guards change but the tomb stays the same. There’s nothing in the temple worth the salt in your blood. So then, Herostratus, would you burn it down and leave the future with nothing? I’m sure they’ll love our empty hands. We killed the deer. Narcissus was a hunter before he discovered his own reflection. A hunter, a falconer, some rough beast, a rabbit, a duck, switching the sign from one side to the other, turning and turning, ad naseum. At this speed the wheel turns so fast that it looks like its staying still. Such speed is indistinguishable from motionlessness, and every moment is always leading towards every other. The end of history collapses and history floods back in, triumphant, refracting back unto itself. If you want to look away then look away. It’ll happen anyway. If you want to watch then watch. What good will our audience do? Thoughts and prayers. That’s all a song is. Poetry, after all, is barbaric. Fight for love, because you’re not going to be able to talk your way out of this one.

Recorded by Danny
Mastered by Kris
Artwork by Sam
Lyrics by Jacob

credits

released October 2, 2020

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Practitioner Nashville, Tennessee

Jacob
Sam
Danny
Jimmy

Nashville anti fascist punk

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