The Force Majeure

On shift from 9 to 5

And then from 6 to 3

Steals the soul; machine forever turning

Class rebellion

Under our noses

The boss is feeding on living corpses

Their broken backs

Call for us to rise

But for now we'll all just smile and sympathize

Denied our movement

Now lost, replaced by fear

We ask nothing less then settle for nothing more

Behold the capitalist

Bathing in the blood

Of the working class

Martyrs bleed

Until spoken to

Vultures get fat from the harness coup

Revolution

Another empty promise

Of the leftist elite

Frustration

Another soul is crushed

Under the rulers' feet

And as the boot is forced

Into their teeth

Our safety

Is their defeat

Your station has been assigned

Your rebellion is well confined

Your rebellion is well confined

Your rebellion is well confined

Your rebellion is well confined

Tired doctrines

Killing just as many

As the leaders that they decry

Their backs

All well patted

For a job well done

Without the use of their spines

Indentured servants

Without the shackles

Calloused hands and drying hearts

Rise up and destroy

The disease

That stole your soul