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lirik lagu the makings of a knight – marsy mars

[verse 1]
“how many times have you
woken up upon a horse?” the beggar
cried, his force 1s lifting from the ground
in visionary delight, when i asked him
where in this town, that is its own world, could i find
those with the unswerving determination to serve
and not submit to immoral wills or abusive regimes?
who hurt and heal as the path of what’s right demands?
“well, my mickey mouse de sade,” said he
“if you’re looking to catch a cache of those
who might break your youthful hide in useful ways
down e1 moonlit lanes congregate those
from whom you might learn something:
these millennial*perspective*dyspeptic
*n*lect expressing
crocodile*of*balkanised*opinion wr*wrestling kinds of girls n guys
looking to the future with history’s eyes of ripe*world brown”

[verse 2]
this was no club for those enticed by
the sign on the door saying “come for m*ffins
stay to become a god by partic*p*tion” nor if in your estimation
this town waiting outside’s a harbour of honours
now, for role*call – yé*yo!
if you would just – yé*yo!
maintain your silence – yé*yo!
til i read your name out – yé*yo
what are knights without horseplay?
and who are they if not those
who give lost causes hope?
pledging by this pledge universal:
“whether we’re inuit, korean in scope or ethiopian
ivory, onyx or heliotropian
manly, womanly, of neither, of both
we swear to chase the makings of a knight”
[chorus]
we swear to chase the makings of a knight
we swear to embrace what we don’t yet understand

[post chorus]
we all know what brought us here: loneliness
the crop this burgh’s second most fond of
or else the steed we ride through its fields
full of the first

[verse 3]
so what’s a knight? and then what makes one?
is it all these vast conceptions that seethe in the mind?
is it to clank at dance, crusade and p*ss ale?
is it getting to the point like me in your life, where
you’ve survived four, five proverbial trials for
forgoing what’s easy, what dulce et facilis est
to do what’s right; to say “comfort be forgone;
under my eye, all life will be dignified”?
if to risk ridicule’s to risk a bullet peace permits
then i’m doing as a revolutionary should
riding out for my beliefs, seeing how many times
i can get myself hit; i am my time against. (from my wounds, your blood)
to live in unreason, rent*of*responsibility free in a duplex of sentiment
to live in the most fashionable modern ignorance
this ain’t enough, it ain’t enough, it ain’t enough for me
there must be more to come than life of the mirror born
a man that looks into that world, a grammified mirror
for the mysterious self, and figures that the only
way to see his reflection is to look away from it;
that’s the one and only making of a knight
[coda]
we all know what brought us here: loneliness
the crop this city second most fond of
or else the steed we ride through its fields
full of the first – money;
i’d like to invite our esteemed listener
who is our honoured guest, now to open
the book of londonium, peep the survey
see precisely what philosophy the burgh lives by;
in other words, play the perseus within our verseus

- marsy mars

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