Letras
We've raised the flags and statues to our mission
We've broken out in slogans and campaigns
Talked and ducked on almost every issue
Where oppression of the masses is the constant theme
But what does this mean to a little town in Iowa
Where the jobs have gone downstream, down south, down and out?
Where the youth who work there bend to the bone all day
Profits rise and fall and starvation is the game
Where is the food that used to cover the table?
Where is the sense of pride at the end of the day?
To the face of a thriving corporation
What can a starving family possibly say?
On the face of every American worker
Is the constant fear that their job will not remain
As the CEO is planning his vacation
Kill or be killed is the nature of the beast
Where is the food that used to cover the table?
Where is the sense of pride at the end of the day?
To the face of a thriving corporation
What could a starving family possibly say?
Stand in line, take a number
You watch your soul and watch it crumble
Into a pile of rubble
That used to be your job, your life, your daily, daily bread
But as some malnourished kid
The house is sold for a degrading bag
Do we continue to talk?
Or do we take a hammer to their chains?
To their chains?
To their chains?