Текст песни
The ink dries on the column a final elegant decree
A number in the margin where a life used to be
They’re selling off the operating lights and closing down the ward
To the steady beat of market sheets we dance without a chord
My mother’s prescription in my hand a price I can’t afford
This is the Austerity Ballet performed upon the poor
So bow and spin on hollow tin and pirouette to ruin
In polished halls the curtain calls on everything we’re doing
They conduct the crash with steady hands a cold and clear conviction
So dance dance to the tune of your own eviction
The plaza cracks in Southern heat where pensions went to die
A ghost of summer tourism in a hollow vendor’s cry
They cut the safety from the net called it fiscal grace
Now a generation’s future is an empty concrete space
We count our coins like rosary beads with terror on our face
In this grand decaying theater we’re forced to keep our place
So bow and spin on hollow tin and pirouette to ruin
In polished halls the curtain calls on everything we’re doing
They conduct the crash with steady hands a cold and clear conviction
So dance dance to the tune of your own eviction
I saw Maria line up for the last church meal
I held the eviction notice with its bureaucratic seal
This bitterness is curdling now it’s turning into fire
A silent graceful plié rising into violent choir
Dance To the grind of the machine
Dance To the lie of the clean
Dance While they privatize your breath
Dance This ballet marches you to death
The final act The lights grow dim
The applause is just a ledger's whim
Our bodies tired our accounts cleared
The most elegant violence you’ve ever feared
