The tribes trapped by a paradigm pair A parasitic co-dependent braid Ever dance the hate minuet so fair And the dank hollowed halls drink the noise made
Cast as evil those who would break the spell Powers fell curse upon you whom it rules In patience we await the dead hand tell They bank on that ancient snare, kindly cruel
To one day break that bank is our intent To see freedom ever free is our goal Too much control is our most fond lament With bread and butter you would steal our soul
The mob owns the mules & they their riders A ball peen hammer, still the anvil rings For each Goliath there comes a slider Tho’ framing hammers bang the 16’s sing
Since only you matter, then here’s the deal: If it’s all relative, nothing is real