You’re the path left by twisted men
Doubled back trying to be straight again
Halos the size of greed
Flat earth spirituality
Can your pride pierce the clouds?
Your crossed fingers trace the truth now
All those tongue lashings only lead to a gnashing of teeth
Speaking in hushed tones doesn't add up to prayers to me
The ones destined for flames without the charm of grace
The sign of a cross more like the crossing of snakes
Rain dance for the crops that you store for yourselves
While your village is starving you hoard all the wealth
You can't roll
the stone away from your own grave
Wash your stains clean only on Sunday
Folding your hands to pray
To hide your hate isn't truth to me
I'm a bastard
A cynic
A blasphemer of truth
A mocker of beauty with the blackest of roots
The fruit that I bear only has venom for juice
We're both of one movement
An eclipse of the moon
You being my kin
Isn't the kind I want speaking for me
Your fangs betray the hate hidden in me
The dividends of sin
that's told in this pair of limbs
Heavy crown fashioned out of hatred, hammered in tin
But the breaking of sinew is not where atonement begins
You can't roll
the stone away from your own grave
Wash your stains clean only on Sunday
Folding your hands to pray
To hide your hate isn't truth to me
You can't roll
the stone away from your own grave
Wash your stains clean only on Sunday
No matter how I pray
To hide my hate
There's only one truth to me
This album by Kenyan electronic producer rPH and poet Kins of Spade reflects on the impact of religion in their lives and society. Bandcamp New & Notable May 12, 2023
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021