1. |
Faith Based Education
05:35
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There’s no place for religious segregation
within the domain of education.
There’s no place.
There’s no place.
There’s no place for childhood indoctrination
in 21st Century education.
There’s no place.
There’s no place.
There’s no place for God and Hell and Satan
within the realms of a kid's education.
Make your voice heard in this confrontation -
“Dismantle
all faith schools”.
There’s no place for teaching divine creation
when one look to the skies and the constellations
proves we all sprang
from the Big Bang.
There’s no place for teaching divine creation
now that we understand adaptation.
Evolution
through natural selection.
There’s no place for insane hallucinations
being taught as fact in spite of these observations.
Make your voice heard in this confrontation -
Dismantle
all faith schools.
Dismantle
all faith schools.
Imagine your frustration
if for the duration
of your education
there was a fixation
on your soul’s salvation
hell and damnation.
No communication
with civilisation.
Total isolation
from the population,
‘coz cohabitation
brings contamination.
Less deliberations.
Change the legislation.
The next generation
deserves liberation
from the limitations
of faith education.
Dismantle
all faith schools.
Dismantle
all faith schools.
Some institutes teach interpretations
of their beliefs using publications
that ardently
want theocracy.
Some schools tell students that limb amputation
would be endorsed in the perfect nation.
It’s God sent
punishment.
Some keep students in complete isolation
expelling those who maintain relations
with anyone not in their congregation.
Can’t have friends
with different
beliefs or views.
Is this not abuse?
There’s no place for teaching children morals
based on the words of flawed mythical novels.
There’s no place.
There’s no place.
There’s no place for bizarre sacred rules
being enforced on youngsters in our schools.
Prayers should be
a choice – do you agree?
Then raise your voice in this confrontation.
Ban faith schools – policy alteration.
They’re teaching children absurd information
negligent
to evidence.
Dismantle
their faith schools.
There’s organisations
with evil foundations
giving large donations
for the propagation
of those publications
whose interpretation
of God’s revelations
is earth’s domination.
The ramifications
of this situation?
Radicalisation
of a generation.
Leaders of our nations -
feel humiliation!
This polarisation
is the culmination
of justifications
for the insulation
of a generation
from all refutations
to the information
that their congregations
teach as inspiration.
Faith based education -
An abomination!
Faith based education -
An abomination!
Faith based education -
An abomination!
To separate children for their education
based on their parent’s religious persuasion
can only fuel
the endless duel.
To change the laws and the regulations
of all faith schools will take dedication,
if you want to see harmonisation:
One solution – stop institutions
of religion – running education today!
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2. |
50 Trillion
02:12
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You’re mentally unwell
if you think that there’s a hell.
Your brains must have been cursed
if you don’t think God’s the worst.
How can anyone believe
some people will burn for eternity,
but not hate the spiteful swine
who thought they deserved pain for all time?
How could anybody enjoy life in heaven?
Countless souls are tortured for eternity.
Would you relish being in God’s glowing presence
if hell was home to members of your family?
Fifty trillion years
of being pierced with fiery spears
will pass by rapidly
compared to the rest of eternity.
A punishment this severe
is deserved if you don’t revere
some perfect deity
who lets souls be tormented for infinity.
How could anybody enjoy life in heaven?
Countless souls are tortured for eternity.
Would you relish being in God’s glowing presence
if hell was the dwelling of your family?
Wicked is the idol that has an obsession
tormenting the souls of those who don’t believe.
I don’t think it’s pleasant, up there in heaven,
knowing others suffer in endless agony.
If a soul dwells in hell,
I wouldn’t want to be
in heaven,
in heaven,
in heaven, down on my knees.
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3. |
Under Attack
16:05
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It was a Friday night in June 2020.
I had just got home from dropping my family,
to the station.
There was my wife Charlene, my daughter Emily,
and her boyfriend John.
They’d asked me twice to come,
to a play with dancing and songs,
but I chose to stay at home.
I hadn’t been too impressed with Emily’s choice of man
I thought that John was a lazy, lay-about stoner
with no plans.
But when I drove away they all smiled and waved,
my wife blew me a kiss.
John held Em round the waist,
a beaming smile lit her face,
a face of bliss.
I had been looking forward to a quiet night in with my
guitar.
But got distracted by TV, some nature documentary,
didn’t get far into it.
My phone began to ring, a call from my manager:
“James have you seen the news?
Are your family with you?
Didn’t you say, they’d be watching that play?
Jihadists have struck again”.
I reach for the control,
switch on the news and feel my body collapse.
It’s where they’re at.
Under attack.
“I’ll call you back”.
Over a hundred hostages.
Already twelve confirmed dead.
This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.
I look at my phone. Should I call or leave alone?
I shouldn’t ring; they might be hiding.
Overcome with panic and fear.
What I should be doing next isn’t clear.
What should I do? What should I do?
My mobile rings again. It’s Charlene’s parents.
I can hardly take in what her mother is saying.
She tried to call Charlene. And she tried to call Emily.
Neither of them are answering.
“Don’t worry Helen. Their phones must be on silent.
Let’s keep the lines clear in case they try to call”.
I send Charlene and Emily a text. “Are you all ok?
Let me know straight away!!!”
The anchor get some breaking news.
They send in an armed police crew.
But soon after, the terrorists blew themselves away.
The news reader’s eyes are red.
She says that there are dozens dead.
Survivors report the attackers shouted “Allahu Ackbar”
They executed indiscriminately.
Point blank shots to the head.
Initial reports are over ninety dead.
Are my family some of them?
I tell myself to stop panicking.
But it’s all over now, why the hell haven’t they called?
I grab my keys and jump into my car.
I tell myself they must be busy helping the injured.
I leave them more voicemails,
as I speed back into town:
“Be safe wherever you are;
I’m coming to find you now”.
Is the writing on the wall? Is the writing on the wall?
It seems more certain with every minute that they don’t call.
Please… Be alright. Please… Don’t be hurt.
Please… Be alright. Please… Don’t be hurt.
On the radio, they interview a survivor.
She saw a young man shot in the head.
He was standing over, an injured young blonde girl,
trying to shield her from the fire.
And then they shot the girl as well.
I listen in horror. I listen in disbelief.
She could be describing John and Emily.
Please… Be alright. Please… Don’t be hurt.
Please… Be alright. Please, please don’t be hurt.
I head out to the nearest hospital,
that’s where the injured have gone.
I walk into a room of weeping and worried faces.
Eventually, someone comes to take my details.
Another couple overhear my words.
It’s John’s parents, they haven’t heard from him either.
That was the moment I broke down.
That was the moment I broke down.
When I came up for air from that emotional tsunami
I gave police detailed descriptions of
Charlene and Emily
There were dozens of bodies, yet to be identified.
Bodies ripped to shreds when the
bombers committed suicide.
None of the injured that were in intensive care,
held ID that matched my loved ones,
my fears became despair.
“They can’t be gone, it’s not possible”.
The thought was driving me wild.
No man should ever have to know the hell of searching
for your wife and only child.
Two officers came and took me and John’s
parents aside.
It was then we knew
their bodies must have been identified.
Even as it was happening,
I knew I’d remember for the rest of my days
the moment they told us
“Charlene, Emily and John have all passed away”.
The last thing that my daughter would have seen:
a gun aimed at her forehead by a Jihadi.
Her mother bleeding out beside her, the next in line.
Her new boyfriend’s brains scattered everywhere,
he could have escaped but wouldn’t leave her behind.
The Jihadists used the latest technology.
They filmed their attack,
and streamed it live for all to see.
I tried not to watch it. I tried to ignore.
Now I can’t un-see the terror and horror.
I can’t un-see,
no, I can’t un-see,
the brutal murder of my loving family.
It was the fourth attack on my country that year.
My wife had voiced concerns which I refused to hear.
I told her “go, have fun. We can’t give into fear”.
Now I kneel at their graves, shedding regretful tears.
When are we going to confront this evil ideology?
Of martyrdom,
and countless atrocities.
When are we going to confront this twisted ideology?
How many dead?
How many hurt?
How many slaughtered families?
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4. |
Berivan
04:54
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Berivan, a Yazidi girl from Northern Iraq was
just fifteen, when her brother died in a Jihadist attack.
Islamic State, took Sinjar mid-2014,
capturing, this frightened and defenceless teen.
Berivan, taken with mother to Tel Afar,
praying for, an airstrike to end their terror!
She was sold, with other girls to a group of men.
They paid more, because they were all virgins.
Jihadists systematically raped her and the other girls.
Taking turns they forced themselves upon their sex slaves.
One evening, she managed to steal a kidnapper's phone.
She escaped, called family and headed home.
Two days walk, she eventually found a Yazidi troop.
She now knows, how low humanity can stoop.
Jihadists systematically raped her and the other girls.
Taking turns they forced themselves upon their sex slaves.
Berivan rested her head,
into her hands,
messaging her temples.
Hoping she could somehow force,
bad memories,
out of her mind.
Creating a mental block,
due to the shock,
did it ever happen?
A dark mental barrier,
is there any way to protect her mind?
Berivan spends all her days,
scrutinizing,
IS propaganda.
Hoping to see her mother,
alive somewhere,
in the background.
Weeps over a photo of
those who she loved,
now murdered or enslaved.
Failing to keep thoughts at bay.
All of the misery, all of the pain.
Awoken by nightmares again and again.
Berivan: Just a young adolescent.
Berivan! Her nightmares are incessant,
but she can’t, speak of her lost innocence.
Berivan! Escaped, then found out that she was pregnant!
Just a young adolescent
escaped, then found out that she was pregnant.
Can’t speak of lost innocence.
The nightmares haunting her are incessant.
The Yazidis won’t support
pregnant rape victims who choose to abort.
Secretly she has to thwart
the pregnancy so she won’t be ignored.
A kidnapped and raped orphan
can’t speak about having an abortion.
Mental health slowly worsens.
Silenced in fear of stigmatisation.
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5. |
... To Faithless
09:45
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I no longer believe in a god.
I’ve left the faith that was forced on me
since youngest childhood by my whole family.
I thought there was something wrong with me.
I thought I was the only person
to ever harbour doubts – how could I be so wrong?
There are so many of us – why don’t we belong?
This process was not short or easy.
I was consumed with deep guilt and fear.
Guilt that I could not believe in the one true faith.
Fearing that if I was wrong I’d have sealed my fate.
I know what’s written about those who don’t believe.
The lowest depths of hell for those who choose to leave.
Let me give you a little background,
I love all of my family so much.
I am incredibly close to both my parents.
But they will both call a spade a heart
if it prevents a need to depart
from the warmth and shelter their profound faith provides.
To this household’s religious rules I must abide.
Would dad smash his diamond with a club
if his diamond were ever to snub
the words of a dead prophet spoken long ago?
I’ve been too scared to gamble – I don’t want to know.
I know what’s written about those who choose to leave.
Don’t trust apostates – they only aim to deceive.
But I can’t stand to hide my true thoughts.
I can’t stand to remain quiet when
parents spread ancient views, help me escape these chains.
My mind keeps going in circles.
I must reveal that I’ve lost my faith.
Will they accept me for who I am?
The exact same person that I have always been.
Or will they tell me to burn in hell for leaving?
Being left without a family.
All by myself, completely alone.
Fearing life without their love – will I be disowned?
Desperately hoping that I will not be disowned.
I know what’s written about those who choose to leave.
Ignore your own children if they cease to believe.
I no longer believe in a god.
I’ve left the faith that you taught to me
since youngest childhood, am I still family?
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, before I close off mine.
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, you have never left mine.
Let me back in your hearts, before I close off mine.
Put your holy book down
and let me back in your lives.
Let me back in your hearts
before I close off mine.
Put your holy books down
and let us back in your lives.
Let us back in your hearts
before we close off ours.
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MeddleSum Southampton, UK
MeddleSum are a mischievous duo, writing meddlesome lyrics about troublesome subjects (that they probably shouldn’t meddle with).
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