Mark these words
And hear their truth,
They mean nothing to me.
Your handshakes to play fake,
Make me want to scream,
This engine runs harder,
Than your lies ever could,
Than your lies ever could,
Just to mark these words.
What price do we pay,
For something that we give away,
To reclaim what we have lost,
Never to be found.
Thieves stealing the beating heart,
Of our art and trample it into dust,
Like lifelines and hard times,
There are enough to go around.
Break the back of this slavery,
Where we are nothing but cattle,
Another sale in the marketplace,
There's enough to go around.
What price do we pay,
For something that we give away,
To reclaim what we have lost,
Never to be found.
We disengage;
Nothing left to say,
[Nothing left to say]
To hold us down,
[Nothing left to say]
To hold us down,
[We disengage]
What price do we pay,
For something that we give away,
To reclaim what we have lost,
Never to be found.
