I hear you talking away
you better stuff it up
I am your price to pay
surfing up what's wrong with others
don't mean you have a say or a face
So quit shaking down trees
you're only making false wind
so it can spread and land in everyone's hands
that ain't no master-plan
But you'd go miles and miles just to see us burn
Taking notice of what we lack not what we earned
and I'm sick of it.
I THINK YOU'VE LOST IMPORTANCE OF WHAT WE HOLD
To me you're just a crumb of dirt rubbed on into gold.
I'm losing patience, it's getting old.
You're Diseased.
You spread it all over