[Intro]
When I was young my dad, Gallup
Took me to Caracas to tour some of the corruptions of capitalism
It was then I knew I had to become a capitalist
Then I knew I wanted its chain on my neck, and glissed on my wrists
I am wet with chrism against your dystheism
Forgiving in bills for that you are hostile ‘gainst the gospel
And as I was never taught to look at man proper
Under said gospel only what’s above, not in or around man may prosper
[Verse 1]
Those who heard Thiago sing put him behind a desk forever more
But he was nothing compared to Thiago
I could smell the bother of poverty more on one
Than on the other, held ten months by their mother
With dreaming’s disabuse they glowed-up
Rolled up daily smelling toked from second-hand smoke-ups
Bashfully handsome under the green light of desert day
Four pairs of dotted, black, cuboid cojones between em they roiled
They were offered rocks from the Panamanian moon
If they’d have their mania and ideology of breast removed
Now as the first children of unwritten family historìa
To hold a pen, one like Caban Vale , the other like Fed Lorca
I presumed they’d be too sullied by their southern
Land-grubbin’ blood to do but do, but
They refused, and in symmetry to way they
Packed their taraguy, out of their office they moved
However principle is but bought, they had one between ‘em
And deflationary expectations had the Thiags for feedin’
Looked at each other, said “Our suits are straight
Our hesitation is our only weight, so let’s entrepreneuriate”
As they say adversity introduces a person to themselves
With introducing the Thiagos I gave much help
But Thiagos, like most, their power of nobility did not understand
Though not for lack of élan, they could not prosper in my land
[Chorus]
Oh, how we'll make it now
Oh how we'll make it in well-mirrored step
You're my brother
OIh my brother
Brother, we’re gonna make it
[Verse 2]
Their every failure was a leaf, and with em they re-canopied
Every Bible in Parana’s missions and the trees of Acungui
Still every morning the brothers, now desperate fathers and husbands
Would meet, for a cup of tea would seat their feet
Talking of the finer points of Latin tax legislation
And thinking maybe the plains needed their own tower of enquiry-ation
So from a café whose owner despised them to their very shittings
They had a dream of the Pariah’s Office of Inquisition
A dream of too much value seemingly to be but dream resistant
But any dream of yours can be my dream too
And though I was no more than the sun of green light they defied
Thiago and Thiago turned to me
And of course they wouldn’t conscion my sponsorship
In market nero or proper, but their wives showed the smarts to prosper
In exchange for letting alone, they offered themselves as tips
For their Thiagos; I wonder did they forgive themselves since?
[Under-Chorus]
And twit-twoo! What a pair of beauties
I can see why they all married each other
…say, do you think they ever swap?
[Post-Chorus]
Brother, did you hang the moon?
The cartel too, that waged their spirit’s-rape
By the moon’s cratered face?
[Verse 3]
At the Tribunal of the Pariah’s Office of Inquisition
High attuned to the wiles of identity politic interposition
Thiago stood for the gay girl, who found her path of self
Leading her from the community already of tropic health;
And Thiago for the black man of Decatur fated
To the path outside of group-curated acceptance:
An office of the fact that no two men are born the same
And there are some sides that no one will take
On the darker side or the lighter
I can’t reasonably say they taught me more than meagre ‘bout either
And yet these two, stood outside and under
Tried to prop up in balance them both
You might wonder which of them was stronger
Who could best stay lahars, or under rising water longer;
The answer of who is stronger is – both
It was the lack of balance in this world they hated most
But hell, they weren’t so balanced themselves
Fortify it with lessons learned off me, their goodness could not fail;
Else they were men seeking to dispel a hell
Whose soils they couldn’t claim, let alone till
It’s not uncommon for men to be lost
In their own institutions
I am not among the pausecrossed for them:
They’re causelost, kept innocent like only the lost
Go around the world
And you will not notice them anywhere
That’s why our world is how it is
The Thiagos whom I revive were not its kids
