You put on those clothes
Like they belong to you
Oblivious to how ridiculous
Your cultural calisthenics
Render you.

Last album you were folk,
This album you’re country,
Next one, maybe synthpop?
Or are the ‘80s uncool again?
Hey, maybe you’ll do “raw rock’n’roll”
You know, go back to the roots
That you never fucking had.

Easter in hip hop,
Summer in soul,
Christmas in klezmer,
But obviously only ironically
Because it’s so, so hilarious.

You’re layered in stolen cotton
So deep you can’t walk straight
And I can’t hear your voice
Any more.

When will you have the courage
To take off the kilts and brocade,
Drop the saris and miners’ boots
And stand naked?
Ugly
Alone
Proud
Free.