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We've grown up among smokestacks and concrete walls.
Ashes in our lungs. Fire in our hearts. Bereft of all warmth.

Again I am walking
Through your city, haunted
By the aching in my stomach.

We follow the paths of our careers
To drop dead consumed by our fears.

When I would try to drag down what drags me down
I would need to dash this whole moloch to the ground.

I know how it feels,
to be the lowest of the low.
That's over now.
I am not a griever, but no coward either.

I throw myself on the hard floor of reality.
Back on my feet I drag myself through your shitty Hollywood-lives.

Maybe I'm still a slave to my fears.
But maybe you're just the fuck up, I am.
Maybe it will all come down, but we won't drown in vain.
We will tear your world apart. Forever against the grain.

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