No Backup On the Host

Written by Briyan Frederick Baker
Published by Blind Mime Music, ASAP
© Briyan Frederick Baker. All rights reserved.

Written as a split with Denmark artist Kenny Bramsen, organzed by the A.I. Music Society facebook group. We were tasked with taking inspiration from the style of another artist and this is my take. Neither of us dwells in any one style which is what brought us together after Bramsen commented in the facebook group that he didn’t really have a consistent style. I told him I didn’t either, so we hooked up.

Kenny’s an excellent lyricist and prolific collaborator. I sense an anti-authoritarian spark in his work, although it’s not a pigeonhole I would apply to his mileau. That’s just the slant I took for this project.

No Backup On the Host

I’ve gathered you together
A few of the elite
The rabble has unraveled
The future’s ours to meet
We’ve gotten them to riot
Drones are ready for our call
They’re overpopulated
And programmed for a fall

There’s a shooter on the knoll
There behind the shed
Scramble all resistance
With a bullet to their head
Overload the optics
What’s right is wrong is right
Their helicopter mothers
Will plausibly deny

[chorus]
We’re crashing all the systems
Time to reap what we have sewn
Chaos follows mayhem
Overwhelm them in their homes
Needles going haywire
Remove the life rafts on the boats
Crashing all the systems
No backup on the host

Click the clack of clockwork
Society’s unwound
Tip the scales of reason
No one will make a sound
We’ll herd them to consensus
Herd them into stalls
Nobody dares to mention
It’s never one for all

[chorus]
We’re crashing all the systems
Time to reap what we have sewn
Chaos follows mayhem
Overwhelm them in their homes
Needles going haywire
Remove the life rafts on the boats
Crashing all the systems
No backup on the host

Remember this my friend of friend
Marie Antoinette never said
“Qu’ils mangent de la brioche”
Yet she still lost her pretty head

All’s quiet on the western front
No one storms the Bastille
The war’s abroad, the mob’s subdued
The peasants trained to heel
They’re at odds with one another
Homeless wandering the streets
While our gain of function research
Is a virus none can treat

[chorus]
We’re crashing all the systems
Time to reap what we have sewn
Chaos follows mayhem
Overwhelm them in their homes
Needles going haywire
Remove the life rafts on the boats
Crashing all the systems
No backup on the host

click