“Malcolm X” - Live, Whores of Babylon lyrics

The beat starts.

[Oh yeah, this is the song you came for—it has a disco underlining, and the room’s throbbing in red and blue lights. You like this one.]

I bop my head. It’s a dance. I keep the eyes in place while bopping my head.

[It’s so hypnotic you can’t stop staring. It’s like a snake.]

COLSON:
To all male power
Who ever believed in shared power
I bow
Since “God is shared power”
To all Satanic liars
Who ever falsified their own power?
Pow, pow
It’s now Pepsi Hour

[“Pow, pow!” The lights just went off. We all just want to not be dominated, not just some of us, and all of us are bound to figure this out sooner or later, and then what? Pow pow?]

COLSON:
The end of history
Seems to be a haze of
Satanic red
Plus God’s blue
So pow, pow
It’s Pepsi’s Hour
[It’s like we’re seeing chain reactions unfold in real time, and we’re in it.]

COLSON:
Quite a sight, indeed
For the powerless and powerful alike to see
Red sky at night, sailor’s warning
It’s just a matter of time before Satan’s fury
End Times will be awash in Pepsi
“If Christianity had asserted itself”
Malcolm X once said
I bow
Christianity will forever assert itself
It’s encoded in our cosmic DNA
As peace’s way of doin’ things
I bow

[“It’s too idealistic to be true. Did we really need the Second Coming for this?” And the worst intrusive thought of all: “No, Colson Lin can’t be right. Humanity was born to die. We need the population culled first, and then we need to just end. I’m tired. Why does Colson have so much energy? What if we can’t all be Colson Lin? Shouldn’t we just give the f*ck up right now?”]

COLSON:
Pepsi was forever the also-ran
Coke was the Y male force and power
Red domination will rule over the right
Consciousness is Pepsi understanding the hour

[“Okay, don’t give up just yet. Let the global self-awareness that all humans are equalized by the p-property of pepsi to settle in across the population first, and let’s see what stabilities might miraculously follow,” you intrusively think next. You don’t know what to do. It’s all too hard.]
COLSON. “Pow, pow.”

[“Why can’t Colson be more like the Bible where we just download what to think? Can we just download what to think from this guy?”]

COLSON:
The end of history
Seems to be a haze of
Satanic red
Plus God’s blue
So pow, pow
It’s—Pepsi’s Hour
Woman is God
Who counsels the reason of shared power
End violence
No slavery
Or else

The music has gotten quite shady.

Disco bots that seem to conceal unspeakable brutalities, normalized by the moral fall of civilization itself. “Pow pow,” you think to yourself inevitably.

A voice from the venue speaks. He sounds like a technical assistant.

VOICE FROM ABOVE. “Put all possible human futures in Box A. Take out the ones unified by a time, time-stable understanding of a universal moral up and down, and move those to Box B. I put a gun to your head. You are looking for the human future in which we exist the longest. Which box do you choose.”

He sounds like he tried to get it right.
That’s all that matters.

Pow pow.