It’s You - Jay Knocka (feat. M Bando)

Life

FMOI @SkylarkSTS

New Music OTW Tape Soon

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Heart Inside A Cup

Elimination

Lyrics

I was not born your enemy.
I was born hunger and fur,
Pulse in the hedgerow,
Breath of the field.
You named me vermin
So you wouldn’t have to name yourselves.

I run because the earth told me to,
You chase because you learned applause.
I take life to stay alive,
You bring a crowd, a horn, a cause.
You dress it up in coats and crests,
Call it heritage, call it right,
But the Torah said choose life — חַיִּים (life, livingness)
Not spectacle dressed as might.

I don’t hunt for pleasure,
I don’t cheer when something breaks.
I don’t call my hunger culture
Or spill blood for tradition’s sake.

You say it’s lawful.
You say it’s clean.
But law without mercy — דִּין (judgment, strict justice) without צֶדֶק (righteous justice, moral fairness) —
Is just violence in a robe unseen.

Your saddle drips with borrowed sin.
Your hands are clean — that’s how you grin.
You let the hounds do what you won’t,
Then wash your soul in “we don’t hunt.”

קוֹל הַדָּמִים (the voice/cry of the bloods) — the blood still cries,
From field to gate, from hedge to sky.
You say G-d’s silent — but I know why:
You never listened when He replied.

You talk of order, land, control,
As if the world was made for you.
But אֵין סוֹף (the Infinite, without end) breathed me into form —
Same spark, same light — you know it’s true.
צַעַר בַּעֲלֵי חַיִּים (the suffering of living creatures / animal suffering) —
You learned the words, ignored the weight.
Built a throne from hierarchy
And called obedience faith.

You ride above, I run below,
That vertical you call divine.
But כֶּתֶר (Crown; restraint, highest will beyond ego) crowns restraint, not ego,
And מַלְכוּת (Kingship; the world of action, responsibility) bleeds when you cross the line.

You think the master can’t be judged
If the whip’s not in your hand.
But every proxy keeps the mark
Of the one who gave command.

The cry ascends when justice bends,
When cruelty calls itself play.
מִדָּה כְּנֶגֶד מִדָּה (measure for measure) —
What you send returns your way.

Your saddle drips with borrowed sin.
Your silence votes. Your cheers give in.
You never struck — you just allowed,
And called that mercy, safe and proud.

קוֹל הַדָּמִים (the cry of the bloods) — the blood still cries.
Not left, not right — just opened eyes.
You want a G-d who looks away,
But דִּין (judgment) wakes up at end of day.

I don’t ask you to love me.
I ask you to stop lying.
Stop calling cruelty order.
Stop calling loyalty righteousness.

I am not your lesson.
You are.

Blood on the Saddle (קוֹל הַדָּמִים)

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