They hunt you down
Like hare on a wire
And wear a morbid crown
Made from blood spilt on fire.
They sit back in their mansions
And watch the weather change
They think they’ve done enough
When all the fruit bares strange.
Oh how they all dress accordingly
And pull-out pocket watches of gold
But underneath that waistcoat
Bares a heart grown cold.
Those men are just a handful
It’s us that are the majority
We let them poison the air
But who says they’re the legitimate authority?
It’s time we take back the earth
And all they have bestowed.
The trees and the fields
The soil and the crops already sowed.
And beneath this land are the dead
Skeletons of pure and white
We shall use their bones to build again
And hope this time, we’ll do it right.
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