The papers praise you with eulogies/ a savior of sorts, as self absorbed as kings/ you sold your city to the industry/you left your city in the hands of the enemy And where you come from there's nothing/and everyone's so god damn complacent with every single lie you tell/I'd like to see you shape a future/I'd like to see you shape a future from the remnants of the past itself You climb the ladder with your social grace/You switch your ideals just so you can join the ranks/You're sipping cocktails on the open range/You sold your city to the profits of the global trade And where you come from there's nothing/and everyone's so god damn complacent with every single lie you tell/I'd like to see you shape a future/I'd like to see you shape a future from the remnants of the past itself And they've buried our remains under the backdrop of their holy scheme/And they've buried our remains under the asphalt/And they've buried or remains under the dugout of their holy game/And they've buried our remains under the blacktop And while we had vanished with the dust/You were shaking hands with the president of such and such/And now you overlook our graves inside a skyscraper/atop the soil that you vowed to save