| And when you said it was gonna be all-right
|
| we almost believed you
|
| It’s the voice of the poor
|
| In a dying land
|
| The drunk and the drugged and the damned
|
| Emergency broadcast
|
| Straight out of babylon system
|
| As the night comes in
|
| It’s the voice of the poor
|
| In a dying land
|
| The drunk and the drugged and the damned
|
| and it seems like sometimes
|
| that you’re never gonna win
|
| and it all comes apart in the end
|
| Punch the clock and you suffer in silence
|
| Night’s marked on the barstool spell out your sentence
|
| The table’s fixed, take what you can get
|
| They cup your drinks while they steal your chips
|
| It’s just a hand-out given with a fist
|
| Forced inoculation from self-improvement
|
| Sometimes you take just what you can get
|
| And if you rock the boat only you get wet
|
| You want answers, so the fuck do I
|
| You got problems, get the fuck in line
|
| And this world seems wicked and unpure
|
| And everyday you wake up it’s just
|
| It’s the voice of the poor
|
| In a dying land
|
| The drunk and the drugged and the damned
|
| Live and direct through the radio silence
|
| Loud into the emptyness
|
| and as the rain falls over the faithless
|
| I know there’s a way but I just can’t explain it
|
| nothing to offer, nothing to give
|
| happiness in this world is so goddamn expensive
|
| Lockdown the borders but the lines stay open
|
| Mainframe is hacked and the code is broken
|
| Shots ring out in the financial district
|
| As the words of the prophets are twisted
|
| They die for your sins but the bills keep coming in
|
| And it’s never gonna end
|
| It’s the voice of the poor
|
| In a dying land
|
| The drunk and the drugged and the damned
|
| Emergency broadcast
|
| Straight out of babylon system
|
| As the night comes in
|
| It’s the voice of the poor
|
| And when you said it was gonna be all-right
|
| we almost believed you |