A meek man built his home out of dirt
In view of the kings castle
The king frowned upon the man and ordered it to be torn down
Is a man the builder, or the arsonist?
The lion, or the sheep?
The king, or the peasant?
The man's wife shivered as they heard a knock upon the door
And opposite the door was a knight bearing the news from the king
I have a wife and kids he said
Where sir, will I live?
Where sir?
Where the f** will I live?
Do we have enough strength to stand on our own two feet?
Or have we become too weak?
The nation's thrones have gathered dust
Leaders k**ed by followers
All because, we didn't wanna be told what to do
f** the man who thinks he is above me
As a species, we are f**ing disgusting
Are you the lion, or the sheep?
The king, or the peasant?
"They bowed their heads to pray for ma**ive strokes and heart attacks"*
And holy golden rain
We've been starving our artists
And feeding our filth
But it is our shopping mall hierarchy that is keeping us alive
We're building homes just to burn them down
Who's the better because of it
We have nothing
The man said, "I will not go away as a monster, but as a tragedy"**
So, he set fire to the town
And stormed the gates of the castle
And holding the king by the hair he said, "You are no more than me, and I am no less than you"
Then he cut and sat upon the throne
We have nothing