What Have We Become?

from Tidy Funk by ChandBibi and the Waste Candidates

	/

Streaming + Download

Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

Purchasable with gift card

$1 USD or more
Buy the Full Digital Album
Full Digital Discography

5

releases

Get all 5 ChandBibi and the Waste Candidates releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.

Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Tidy Funk, ChandBibi and the Waste Candidates, Resort to the Blues, Take me Dancing, and Breathe. , and , .

Purchasable with gift card

$2.70 USD or more (10% OFF)

about

This is a song we like to think of as our musical indulgence.
A song that wonders what our race has come to.

lyrics

What have we become?
What have we become?
We're losing soul
losing self control
What have we become?

We ignore the signs
The rift widens
we haven't got the time
Consequences of sound
momentarily found

What have we become?
What have we become?
This hunger burns
in life's twisted turn
What have we become?

There's no pause to the cries
Ignorance is what we live by
Reach the end of the line
we surrender blind

Lose yourself to that beautiful sound
Dream your way into hallowed ground
Live your life in this constant refrain
Nor sad nor proud these questions seem in vain

What have we become?
What have we become?
Whatever mourns
when many leave these shores
What have we become?

We ignore the signs
The rift widens we
haven't got the time
Consequences of sound
momentarily found.

Happy are these who lose imagination:
They have enough to carry with ammunition.
Their spirit drags no pack.
Their old wounds, save with cold, can not more ache.
Having seen all things red,
Their eyes are rid
Of the hurt of the colour of blood for ever.
And terror’s first constriction over,
Their hearts remain small-drawn.
Their senses in some scorching cautery of battle
Now long since ironed,
Can laugh among the dying, unconcerned.

But cursed are dullards whom no cannon stuns,
That they should be as stones.
Wretched are they, and mean
With paucity that never was simplicity.
By choice they made themselves immune
To pity and whatever moans in man
Before the last sea and the hapless stars;
Whatever mourns when many leave these shores;
Whatever shares
The eternal reciprocity of tears

What have we become?
What have we become?