| A mass of hands press on the market window
|
| Ghosts of progress dressed in slow death
|
| Feeding on hunger and glaring through the promise
|
| Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle
|
| A mass of nameless at the oasis
|
| That hides the graves beneath the master’s hill
|
| Buried for drinking the river’s water while
|
| Shackled to the the line at the empty well
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over the new ground
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over new ground
|
| Listen to the fascist sing
|
| «Take hope here, war is elsewhere
|
| You were chosen, this is God’s land
|
| Soon we’ll be free of blot and mixture
|
| Seeds planted by our forefathers' hand»
|
| A mass of promises begin to rupture
|
| Like the pockets of the new world kings
|
| Like swollen stomachs In Appalachia
|
| Like the priest that fucked you as he whispered holy things
|
| A mass of tears have transformed the stones now
|
| Sharpened on suffering and woven into the slings
|
| Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress
|
| Taking today what tomorrow never brings
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over the new ground
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over new ground
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over the new ground
|
| Ain’t the new sound just like the old sound?
|
| Look at the noose now, over the, over the, over the burning ground
|
| Ain’t it funny how the factory’s doors close?
|
| 'Round the time that the school doors close?
|
| 'Round the time that the doors of the jail cells
|
| Open up to greet you like the reaper?
|
| Ain’t it funny how the factory’s doors close?
|
| 'Round the time that the school doors close?
|
| 'Round the time that a hundred thousand jail cells
|
| Open up to greet you like the reaper?
|
| Oasis
|
| This is no oasis
|
| This is the new sound, just like that old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over the new ground
|
| This is the new sound, just like the old sound
|
| Just like the noose wound over new ground
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall
|
| Like ashes in the fall |