Handcuffed to a post, body chained to death.
Rusted irons pulling his spirit towards Hell.

Shackled souls who cry in hope.
His name in blood on white-washed walls.

During the day,
My brain is in chains,
At night it breaks out of its cage.

During the night,
My dreams, they take flight;
And I wish they would give me a fright.

**** boy you took on way more than you can handle you thought you could tame this wild *** driven fear driven impulsive girl you thought you could tame her unruly curls and her firey green eyes which shine in the dark night illuminated with lust and desire you thought you could make her into one of your gucchi girls with manicured toes HAH those are the kind of girls she sets to fire and watches them burn while she laughs and howls under the moonlight you thought you could teach her manners and poise when all she wants is your money and your body shes a free soul, brother, she's a wild child grown up with no one to hold her down she runs free she has no chains she has no loyalties she has no reason or purpose all she knows is that she's going nowhere and she's in such a hurry to get there you'll never be able to keep up she's barefoot while you're still shining your dress shoes
tell me when you were 17 did you ever look twice at the ***** girls passed out in the alleys? tell me did you ever help them up or ask them their name? tell me did you ever give a **** or did you turn your face away from them and tell your little brother to shield his eyes from the filth of society?
now that shes older and maybe a little cleaner doesn't mean you have the right to tame her or tie her down, boy, you can't handle a girl like her, boy, *you can't have me

Beat the rhythm
empty hand,
Iron cast chains
rattles command.

Ol' Boss Hogg,
baton raised
Self righteous fool
has need of praise.

In order that
he gain acclaim,
thinks with hate,
acts with shame.

Human beings,
commodity,
ships hold stacked
with those once free.

Bodies piled
upon high
you will not see
the strong ones die.

Scars embedded
on their backs
chained and shackled
to the racks.

We deal in branded
breathing stock,
Unload black vassal
from our docks.

Beat the rhythm
empty hands.
Iron cast chains
in far off lands.

We keep our skivvy,
wired hair blacks.
We work them hard,
we score their backs.

They do for us,
they work the field.
Grow the cotton,
pick the yield.

Keep the body,
take the mind.
Labour whatever's
left behind.

And if demeanour
does ever flinch.
We'll introduce you
Willie Lynch.

Beat the rhythm.
Empty hands
Iron cast chains.
Unfair demands.

Beat the rhythm,
shackled feet.
We take their worst
but can't be beat.