| This cloudy morning they’re up today
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| another shit waged Sunday hand in hand the underpaid
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| the under-appreciated serving you till two or three
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| the families in the freezing picking bottles off the street
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| the after-glow it was glowing bright
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| but the reality of the empty bottle’s quick turned off the lights
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| because there’s the lady, the shopping cart
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| crying in the freezing but she doesn’t have a frozen heart
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| they’re grinding with the gears, they have for years
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| evolution doesn’t instill fear
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| because they have an appreciation for the common man
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| with bottles in their hands it’s the end for most of them
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| complain today and for the rest of your days
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| spitting in the faces of the people who cater to you
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| consume the world giving orders
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| to the souls with the hearts that are drowning in the shit wage
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| blues to you, this imbalance is serving right
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| corporate america sucking out the life so your kids won’t have to fight
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| for nothing, while laughing at the lady with the cart she smiles
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| and waves because she doesn’t have a frozen heart
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| they’re grinding with the gears, they have for years
|
| evolution doesn’t instill fear
|
| because they have an appreciation for the common man
|
| with bottles in their hands it’s the end for most of them
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| the sound, the struggle, barely hanging on
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| it’s the song you never sung and it’s the only song they’ll ever know
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| sound of the struggle when they’re barely hanging on
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| it’s the song they’ve always sung and it’s the only song they’ll ever know.
|
| they’re grinding with the gears, they have for years
|
| evolution doesn’t instill fear
|
| because they have an appreciation for the common man
|
| with bottles in their hands it’s the end for most of them
|
| the sound, the struggle, barely hanging on
|
| it’s the song you never sung and it’s the only song they’ll ever know
|
| sound of the struggle when they’re barely hanging on
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| it’s the song they’ve always sung and it’s the only song they’ll ever know |