It's the same sort of sunlight you get while you're lying in a coffin, the type of promise you feel when you're staring at the wrong end of a shotgun... and the thrill you felt in your chest the throat locked up tight without a key without a switch we'll drop thousands of floors down our to the pits of our stomachs, getting worried getting sick walking these salted streets dressed like a target I can see how it ends and I don't want a part of it... finely dressed to the nines he says "oh we'll just gut out the ugly parts of this city make more than a couple million and push them all out to new and worse ghettos."
I don't fear the leaders who seek to destroy our bodies... I fear the ones who destroy our souls one price tag at a time
