| Easy it seems to cover your walkway with dead and salted bones
|
| Never lose one step, steady at your pace like walking over stones
|
| Pavements and paths made up of destitute
|
| Stature and power consuming all of the roots
|
| Killing all of the fools
|
| Choking onto your truth
|
| Bury them in the blackened poisoned ocean
|
| Careful those backs you break climbing up your rungs
|
| Hammer down the policies you need to cut and color our lungs
|
| Paris green, make ‘em nice, ripe, and tender
|
| Monetize, slaughter beauty and splendor
|
| Killing all of the fools
|
| Choking onto your truth
|
| Bury them in the blackened poisoned ocean
|
| Careful those backs you break climbing up your rungs
|
| Hammer down the policies you need to cut and color our lungs
|
| Careful those backs you break climbing up your rungs
|
| Careful those backs you break
|
| Short sighted, empired on weakened and thinned
|
| We’ve been drained and quartered
|
| Infested terra firma scorched burnt underneath
|
| Left for sons and daughters
|
| Every dollar you will gain
|
| Every minor cent you make
|
| Can you bring it with you when you’re 6 feet out of range
|
| Every little ounce you take
|
| Every single life you waste
|
| Sell out your sons and daughters
|
| Careful those backs you break climbing up your rungs
|
| Hammer down the policies you need to cut and color our lungs
|
| Careful those backs you break climbing up your rungs
|
| Hammer down the policies you need to cut and color our lungs |