Woven from Words

Описание: Songtext:

Red dresses, white hoods, quiet like grave-light in the hall,
they call it faith, but it’s just power wearing holy walls.
Two hands tight on frozen cloth, a look that begs for air,
and every breath becomes a crime when no one hears “no” there.

Don’t tell me: “It’s just a TV story.”
I hear the chains outside the screen.
You call it order - I call it stealing,
when your body’s no longer your own to keep.

This ain’t a costume — it’s a cage made out of laws,
not “fate”, not “duty”, just fear stitched into your heart.
You call it safety, but I see teeth inside your words
when freedom dies, it dies in silence… and you still clap in the dark.

When borders turn to prison walls for those who crawl for help,
when doctors become enemies for not condemning hell,
when the state reaches past the door, into your bed, your house,
then Gilead’s not a TV show - it’s standing at your gate right now.

And while you whisper “morals”,
I count bodies, I taste the pain.
You wanna “clean” this world to whiten it—
but you’re smashing out its heart again.

This ain’t a costume - it’s a cage made out of laws,
not “fate”, not “duty”, just fear stitched into your heart.
You call it safety, but I see teeth inside your words
when freedom dies, it dies in silence… and you still clap in the dark.

And I won’t say thank you
for rights you only lend.
My body is no state-owned land.
No altar. No verdict. No red dress at the end.
’Cause if you take our voices,
our silence turns to storm
and every woman you try to break
will be reborn and reborn.

This ain’t a costume — it’s a cage made out of laws,
and I tear the fabric down that tries to make me small.
You call it safety, but your hands are truly haunted
by control, not by compassion…
and we won’t suffer quietly at all.

Gilead doesn’t come overnight.
It comes in words that are “just opinions.”
In laws that swear they’re “just order.”
So go, sister — go.
Vote against the pain before it turns into your everyday.
A cross on paper for our right.
A cross on paper — our resolve.
Because one small mark can choose your future…
or take it all.