Starving in dirt no shelter or work scavenge the 
wasteland for a shred of hope safe in their towers the 
masters look down gold in their fingers eternal control 
hiding in rubble in concrete and slag wait for the moment 
knife always in hand living... Waiting... To die come 
on... Pick up... The knife they pulled the trigger and 
started the war greed is their sickness fire is the cure 
fire is the cure... Living... Waiting... To die come 
on... Pick up... The knife pick up the knife