The Force Majeure

On shift from nine to five
Then from six to three
Steals the soul machine forever tuning

Class rebellion
Under our noses
The boss is feeding on the living corpses

Their broken backs
Call for us to rise
But for now we'll all just smile and sympathize

Denied movement
Now lost replaced by fear
We ask nothing less then settle for nothing more

Behold the capitalists
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

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 spies

Attention servants
Put down the shackles
Callused hands and drying hearts

Rise up and destroy
The disease that stole your soul