| I’ve seen the blood
|
| I’ve seen the broken
|
| The lost and the sights unseen
|
| I want a flood
|
| I want an ocean
|
| To wash my confusion clean
|
| I can’t resolve this empty story
|
| I can’t repair the damage done
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Who’ve never faced oppression’s gun
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Imitations of rebellion
|
| We act it out
|
| We wear the colors
|
| Confined by the things we own
|
| We’re not without
|
| We’re like each other
|
| Pretending we’re here alone
|
| And far away, they burn their buildings
|
| Right in the face of the damage done
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Who’ve never faced oppression’s gun
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Imitations of rebellion
|
| Rebellion, rebellion
|
| We lost before the start
|
| Rebellion, rebellion
|
| One by one we fall apart
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Who’ve never faced oppression’s gun
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Imitations of imitations of rebellion
|
| Rebellion, rebellion, rebellion
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Rebellion, rebellion, rebellion
|
| Who’ve never faced oppression’s gun
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Imitations of rebellion
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Who’ve never faced oppression’s gun
|
| We are the fortunate ones
|
| Imitations of imitations of rebellion |