| Keep your m? |
| out of my kids skin
|
| Keep your chemicals out of my oxygen
|
| Keep your chemo out of my blood stream
|
| Keep your? |
| and your war machine
|
| My street by the first and the strongest
|
| And that street a military conquest
|
| You can’t take the prophets out of context
|
| You can’t love mercy if you love conquest
|
| I’m not joking here
|
| Uh
|
| Something’s broken here
|
| I just hope it’s clear
|
| It’s just smoke and mirrors
|
| They’re just stokin' fears
|
| They’re just racketeers
|
| It’s a thin veneer
|
| They’re just ticklin' ears
|
| Strong man said lets steal their ore and cheer them on
|
| Strong man said lets scorch the soil of the children
|
| Strong man why you celebrate the talk of war crimes?
|
| That don’t belong man
|
| I’m not a fan of air bombs and land mines
|
| Demi gods — like demagogues — like warlords
|
| White collar frauds
|
| In New York suits or in camouflage
|
| Either way it looks the same
|
| Its a corruption — it’s a con job
|
| Why are we so warlike
|
| Why are we so warlike
|
| Clear cut — landfill — oil spill — strip mine
|
| They’re draining out the essence of my soil through a pipeline
|
| So more like a flood going toxic from the start
|
| It’s oil and not blood flowing through your dark heart
|
| Where is the justice here?
|
| Uh
|
| They’re just profiteers
|
| Special interest got their ears
|
| But we need our opiates
|
| And our titanium
|
| We displace the masses
|
| With cocaine and uranium
|
| Building industry on the backs of the exiles and the enslaved
|
| Just like back home in the good ol' days?
|
| Is this a blood diamond
|
| I can’t tell
|
| Blood? |
| are in my cell phone
|
| How did we accumulate so much wealth
|
| Well, the war criminal is myself
|
| Oh.
|
| Why are we so warlike
|
| Why are we so warlike
|
| The shrimp boats
|
| The Kun Kun
|
| The Carper
|
| The Coffee
|
| The gold?
|
| The cotton?
|
| Why am I brining it up
|
| Again and again
|
| I’m giving them the sugar cane
|
| It’s still the same
|
| We’re looking the other way today
|
| It feels like we’ve forgotten
|
| Without the demand
|
| There’d be no need for supply
|
| There’s blood on your hands
|
| Man
|
| And there is a plank in your eye
|
| You don’t look a thing like Jesus Christ to me
|
| You look like self-righteous apathy
|
| You look like entitlement and supremacy
|
| Ye who tread on the weak
|
| To defend the wealthy
|
| You talk so casually
|
| Of the less
|
| Battles, backs and schisms
|
| Can’t you see the causalities
|
| Of your hyper nationalism
|
| Ahh |