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c*** c***ry Lyrics

I've decided to start
c*** c***ry!
Write our own Cunstitution
Let our liberated c*** bells ring out:
The c**** are coming: It's the c*** Revolution!
I'd cut through my panties, I'd shake my p*** hair loose,
I'd sign my Jane HanCunt in cursive with c*** juice.
I'd declare the Independence of c******* to Shining c*******,
Proclaim the Emancipation of all c****--
and tell d***s this:
You're being drafted for the Big Solution:
Stand Erect, Be Proud,
You're part of the c*** Revolution!
Defending our slick, silky, v*****l turf
For all c***ed creatures, created or by birth.
And they'd wear b***ons with fists raised, that say:
Patriarchy! I survived! Now this d***'s fighting the Good Fight for
v*****l Pride!
And kids in school would learn the Her-story
Of the Boston Tea-ch Party,
When c***-Liberators tossed c***-Traitors into the sea,
Finally felt what it meant to be free.
And they'd learn how color complicated the win,
How White c***ed Creatures had to sacrifice Privilege,
Re-focus Vision for a Real Revolution to happen.
And kids would have weekly field trips
To the Museum of Un-Natural His-Story
With display glass jars of rapist gonads in all their shriveled glory.
And Behind velvet rope, ancient relics of the past, like:
Female Guilt, Circumcision knives, Certificates turning whole people into Wives.

And there'd be torture chamber exhibits
with tall, skinny heels
Inviting little girls to:
Try this, and see how this feels-
c***ed Creatures wore these to work or to anywhere formal:
This Pain was called s**y. This process was called Normal!
And there'd be old collections of posters like:
Keep Abortion Legal- with a plaque:
Not much is known. But these come from an era when
Insecure Ruling d*******s thought of
Bodies as something to own.
We'd pledge allegiance to P-Flag
With stars like you-- and crooked stripes!
We'd carry passports made from a giant c*** Mold
In all pubic colors: Gray, Auburn, Ebony, Gold.
We'd ban all commercials of:
Are you not so fresh?
Is your vag repulsive? Do you stink like fish?
And instead, we'd conduct a c*** Taste-Testing Session,
Get used to the smells of Blood, Yeast, and the Ocean.
And Hothead Paison would lead Alison Bechdel's d***s:
Watch out for the c*** c***ry Army on Bikes!
There'd be an Esteemed Office called "National Astrologist"
And c*** Commander in c***f would be... a Gynecologist.
And Michael Moore would be Vice-Pres...
Cause the c*** c***ry Court of Legality says:
Possessing a c*** matters less than possessing
the c*** Mentality.
And daughters would laugh at old-fashioned terms like
Virgin and b**** and w****
As they checked out the newest inventory of vibrators Sold at the corner store.
Because daughters would be freer and d***s would be Freer and d***s would be freer
If we stood up and sang:
My c*** tis of Thee
My c*** tis of Thee
Because c*** is the latin root of Kin and Country
But see, somehow some of our countrymen forgot they had
Sisters, decided to treat us as unwelcome visitors,
Made it hard to have a c*** in this country.
Made it hard to have a c*** in this country.
So, we are starting c*** c***ry.
Not out of rebellion,
Or unexamined sisterhood,
Or some sort of Seventies Separatist Revival.
We are starting c*** Land
For that which it will stand:
One Nation
Under Survival.
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Built Like That (2001)
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