| We were married on a rainy day
|
| Isn’t that how the song goes?
|
| I wore black jeans and codeine
|
| I guess I wanted to make sure
|
| I seemed «relaxed»
|
| «It's just for contractual reasons,» I explained
|
| Signing the papers
|
| As if I truly believed that a contract was further
|
| From the institution than the industrial happiness complex
|
| But in the year of love
|
| I signed a deal with patriarchy
|
| Now watch me step
|
| Into the place where you can see me: Look at me
|
| You think that I’m different, but I’m a stagehand
|
| Look, it’s there, under the ring
|
| The imprint on my skin
|
| Oh, a year later, I’m on stage
|
| When a man proposes to a woman
|
| Right in front of me, in the middle of a song
|
| I thought I knew what was about
|
| And I am holding a disco flashlight
|
| It is meant to make the audience
|
| Feel like multitudes of colors
|
| That belong to nobody in particular
|
| That they share between their bodies
|
| But now all it does is light up a proposal
|
| A normcore institution
|
| I am giving it my voice, but then again, I already did
|
| Oh, already did
|
| But in the year of love
|
| I did what I never thought I would
|
| And you may think I’m different
|
| But listen, all contracts can be sung with my voice
|
| I’m just a stagehand
|
| Look, it’s there, under the ring
|
| The imprint on my skin |