| The best thing I ever saw on TV
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| Was that S.Q. |
| cop catching a bullet with his teeth
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| Condolence, madame Canadiana
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| But your husband was a fucking stuck pig
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| But this song’s not about some romantic account of history
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| It’s not about martyrs or mythos or heroes or burnings-in-effigy
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| It’s about a native kid flipping her lid just trying to keep some self-respect
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| intact
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| It’s about an oka the size of a fist in resistance and a will to fight back
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| The girls at work, they still deny their racism
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| They claim tolerance for all
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| But it seems the degree of only racial slurs is their gauge
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| And it defines tolerance as hate
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| And there’s 27 million «girls-at-work» here
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| Imagine fighting that 500 years
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| And golly-gee, how valiant how the white oppressor makes allowance
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| For calculated gestures of insurgence
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| All tightly tethered to their purses/purpose
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| Oka had this orchestra aborted
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| Oka fucked their rules to choose a future self-determined
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| And I support it
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| And the best thing I think I ever said
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| If a Kevin Kostner Kavalry is your means to their end
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| Then the struggle is dead
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| Why do we pretend that our approval is upon what they depend? |