D/Death By Stereo/You're a Bullshit Salesman with a Mouthful of Samples
This is a place that has no soul No will to live no where to go This is a time of much despair
In a world where gold rules all The fools are quickly first to fall They think a God will save them all
No, they cannot see the prisons that surround them No, the problems multiplying and compounding No, I will not let chains of excess pull me No, into a pit of fools gold that will hold me
The time to find, we gotta find The time to find, the state of mind
This is a place that has no soul No will to live no where to go This is a time of much despair
I will not get down on my knees It's the American disease It's just the way they hold us down
No, they cannot see the prisons that surround them No, the problems multiplying and compounding No, I will not let chains of excess pull me No, into a pit of fools gold that will hold me
The time to find, we gotta find The time to find, the state of mind It's inside of me
And all the lies that you sold us Will never hold us, now we're just fed up And all the fences built around us Will never hold up, now we're just fed up
When we met you we were hungry Yeah, we were starving Now we're just fed up, we were hungry Now we're just fed upTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
