Neck-tie, turban Up-do, crown Mitre, cop hat Bring 'em down The world in a corroded state of mind
The fellowship of copy-cats The feeding of the rich High society has high season, yeah
This is the rising of the underdog The tourniquet of our bleeding society
Within the circle Without fear You're the center of The life you bear At the top of the food chain taking a break
Terror of perspectives Heads up high and make believe With the foot pressed on the pedal Hit the wall while we're asleep Made of flesh and bone Embodied image of our evolution
With this life we own Downstream or revolution
Feel the wind As it turns Hear the silence Now it's gone The ending of the poor being sold
We won't shut up for money Won't buy your s*** for peace Yeah I bet you've seen it coming So come on, f***er, catch me if you can!