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lirik lagu we’ve come to terms, we have – marsy mars

verse 1
amdist many could*be platos, waiting and plating
do i get the terms of my future mating in contemplated evil’s face
the heroes of the past rounded me in fortnum n mason’s
during mine and ma’s annual mother*and*son fortnum*mason date
she carried such wares as contorted her bag
into the visage of a face screaming for release
from the multitudes in it to be reconciled
a guccian shorthand for all those whom those gs beguiled
i wore thе same velvet blazеr i wore when she inaugurated this
tradition after my visit to the fiend in prison
and then, as now, she eyed the tea selection with undivided
attention, spoke not a word, didn’t even care enough to look up
in expectant silence at the spectacle of my coming to terms

bridge
well, here’s what i see over sing*sing walls

chorus
when the past locks you
deep in negotiation
it often seems that the
leverage is its to hold
but each time with a sneer and a laugh
we come to terms
we’ve come to terms, we have
verse 2
under this little creatural instrumental which ma thought
as she always does, must be by the beatles, she asked
“wouldn’t you agree sunshine, after co*rs* deeds and words
“that there’s nothing like a laugh to come to terms?”
i smiled, nodded a weighty ‘aye’, thinking of the time
dad did just that when i said i’d been ideating suicide
told her the news, mentioned i’d been offered the chance to speak
about that shooting on tv, but not that i was planning to marry
in this bygone’s alley i took her hands, “let me ask you
why is it that every time we find ourselves here, whence i want
to tell you the story of your living son the good guy, to describe
that bl**dy wonder, i can only fixate on the shields we locked
against one another, the hate that once gave me slovenly body
and on slights and upsets goneby, so emboldened by your presence
that flee for their lives when elsewise in my sight?”
her eyes trembled with sentiment
and just when i thought i at last had her in a position
where she would try to answer this unanswerable question
the tea arrived

verse 3
this time i pressed for an answer, but gazing round she sighed
“look at our world, these progressives
who are in fact profoundly conservative; these idle rich
these milk teas, and we, mother and son mired in enmity, we;
shamed in industry and culture by the poor and migranty”
“not often you give strangers the benefit of your humanising
instinct ma, to hear you do so is grand”
“maybe what you don’t understand,”
she said “is that the terror of that return
if it was not what knighted you or your mother or mother’s mother
remains latent in your bones
in your genetic code mulls a dormant
cry ‘i will not go back there!’
people hate what they fear they may become, and
sure antipathate against what they fear they may become again;
that’s what i think when i look
at the poor migrant mother and her child,”
she said, ordering again from the fortnum carte
as much pierscribed in her mind as touch of mother mild

- marsy mars

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