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lirik lagu man in maroon – mr dan master & haberdashers’ adams

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you heard of eve?
she’s confused, petrified and secluded
can’t believe the adversity she sees
a crystal lingers, within our believer
the only thought to guide her ‘till she bumped into him

he challenged her uncertainties
said, she’ll chase her hopes and dreams
liberate her little lattice flake
proclaimed*

“wait, hold on, was this me, was this you?”
no, no, this was thе man in maroon

proclaimed “i’ll help ya with the sеcrets up my sleeve
place you my shoulders let’s appreciate the view or catch the breeze
put you on a pedestal, companies will understand what you’ll be if you’re here
just thank the artist you’re with me.“

anyone would’ve seen it coming
deceit breeds greed to compete
and bleed from the oesophagus, the eyes
so then they can’t perceive
then it’s too late to even be

but, the remarks were so kind
he’d seemed so nice
it’s not her fault, the world’s ridiculous
it was the creators choice, for it to be this way
she’s doomed
it’s time to conclude, eve’s fate
i’ve been here a while, but now i understand
i believe i’m ready

suddenly a gang of boys lunge from the bushes
with knives, ties and envy, swung viciously
kicked her to the ground, shouting
“do not even try and touch our grammar school identity. “
they kept pelting, it felt like an eternity
the carnage spectacular, onlookers complicit, vengefully witnessing
these blood stained sleeves that put a knife through her chest
foot on her head, declaring victory above the enemy
to complete eve’s destiny: dead on the street were she was left

her body twisted, coughing crimson blood from the mouth onto the harsh tarmac floor
front and back soaked in haemoglobin, maroon pulsing poison to the shirt, tie and the white collar we’re all wearing
alone in a hole that we’re both in

but i’ll rise
they tried to put me in a box with a boxcutter
the irony is that i’m coming back to this track so i’m not dead i could sprint another kilometre
try me
gender, i’ve transcended that
grammar, i’m a part of that, i’m the first, i’m eve
resurrected, i’m an intersection of history
looking at my life it’d seem so weird
that a place like this could last four hundred years
but how else would we ensure every kid in the premises had a p*n*s attached to it?
so the aspirational teachers can, wait, i’m not done
so the best teachers can bring up the best pupils too
so a few who don’t need help can go to a gendered, selective school
an ideal to pursue, to get in that protected sphere
you have to go to succeed that’s all you ever hear
you have sit there, and inhale the sick elitist air
the heteronormativity, it begins to feel unsettling
but you’re still here

meaning a child with an idea
must give up their soul, their hope
their beautiful crystal destroyed by fear
and forfeit the ability, the means
to be what they foresee
‘cause they gave up a seat
to an obsolete tradition
which ration’s ambition
so it can enforce a classifying system
that separates education into factions
because their family, humanity
couldn’t afford them a tuition!

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