What will become of us in this foreign land? 
Empty hands 
Starbucks coffee cups 
We won’t weep or sigh 
Windshield wipers 
We’re poor monkeys on a chain 
What will become of us in this foreign land? 

Then we go down, then we go down 
Then we go down, then we go down 
Then we go 

Can you hear the sound of rattling metal chains? 
Car windows closing hastily 
We won’t feed the lie 
Windshield wipers, 
Left right 
Staring into nowhere 
Disregarding the sound of rattling metal chains 

Then we go down, then we go down 
Then we go down, then we go down 
Then we go 

No dime no dollar in our pockets 
Only fallen children in our hearts 
No roof no shelter over our heads 
Only graveyard memories on our mind 

Dear gatekeeper let us in 
Come on gatekeeper let us in