| There’s people hauling people
|
| Out from under their homes
|
| There’s people hauling people
|
| Out through the groaning stones
|
| You can see me tonight,
|
| I’ll be shell shocked and white in the cold light of dawn
|
| But I ain’t gonna cry just to give some guy
|
| Food for songs
|
| People going hungry,
|
| Stand like a sackfull of bones,
|
| People going hungry, feeding a billion homes
|
| So I put my dead child down, you put your TV on
|
| Well I ain’t gonna cry just to give some guy
|
| Food for songs
|
| Yeah, there’s people beating people,
|
| To keep the system strong
|
| People beating people, to keep the illusion going
|
| So I’m going to fight every day of my life 'til they’re gone
|
| But I ain’t gonna die just to give some guy
|
| Food for songs
|
| Yeah, there’s people holding people,
|
| Making those wailing sounds,
|
| Yeah, there’s people holding people,
|
| Watching them lower me down
|
| So I take my leave and you take what you see
|
| And you make it what you want
|
| But when I see you in hell, I will give you some
|
| Food for songs. |