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Mississippi Burnin. (Lyric) by SupremeDreamer

Mississippi Seething v.2 [Revised & Re-titled.] ------------------------------------------------------------ It's so cold now, as I fold, content though not bold, here in this stance between time and memories seen so long ago that they've lost their sheen-- feeling like some whore who's a bore, leaving my customer flaccid 'cause my swaggin's rancid and [chorus] you could just kill me, hang me like some nigger on a Mississippi tree-- but that would amount to nothing, because I refuse to flee, (It's pointless since you broke my knees.) and I'll never cry "just kill me please". I'm a placid stillness that you can not seize, my subversion is a perpetual disease. [chorus] It was true that once only few could tolerate my frenzied debate, but now I pretend to accept my fate, now I'm something worthy of your hate-- an object of derision, fueling the riot with its confusion and leaving you with an eerie sensation of being bought; neither cold or hot, I fill you with rot and [chorus] you could just kill me, hang me like some nigger on a Mississippi tree-- but that would amount to nothing, because I refuse to flee, (It's pointless since you broke my knees) and I'll never cry "just kill me please". I'm a placid stillness that you can not seize, my subversion is a perpetual disease. I die in you, taking you with me. I die in you, taking you with me. [chorus] And despite everything, my limp form still sings with fury-- a sound that people wish to bury so they can forget its heat that 'causes them to sweat with fear while they're binging on warm glasses of beer, completely unaware that they consume me in surrender, and deny the emptiness of their hunger. [chorus] I die in you, taking you with me-- I die in you, taking you with me, and you could just kill me, hang me like some nigger on a Mississippi tree-- but that would amount to nothing, because I refuse to flee, (It's pointless since you broke my knees.) and I'll never cry "just kill me please". I'm a placid stillness that you can not seize, my subversion is a perpetual disease. [chorus] It's so cold now, as I fold, content though not bold, here in this stance between time and memories seen so long ago that they've lost their sheen-- feeling like some whore who's a bore, leaving my customer flaccid 'cause my swaggin's rancid and [chorus] you could just kill me, hang me like some nigger on a Mississippi tree-- but that would amount to nothing, because I refuse to flee (It's pointless since you broke my knees.) and I'll never cry "just kill me please". Like a nigger hangin on a Mississippi tree, I'm dying in you, taking you with me; a placid stillness that you can not seize, eating you alive and setting me free, a nigger at peace hangin on a Mississippi tree-- Dying in you and taking you with me, my subversion is a perpetual disease, a placid stillness that you can not seize. [chorus]

-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 14-Aug-04/12:20 PM
"That's what consciousness is for."

Consciousness is consciousness. Our reactions to the environment are behaviour. Establishing that consciousness is a prerequisite for particular patterns of reaction to the environment is equivalent to a refutation of epiphenomenalism, which frankly I don't think you're up to, old boy.




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