Well they're sitting pretty
On Dark Brother hill
Plaid in their suit and ties
Dressed for the kill
Well not all are wretched
As whispers in black
They all played the game
With the blood sacrifice
Is that the rising sun
Breaching through to wake us up
To the veil over our eyes
To our moral appetite
There's blood in the paper every day
The flags been unraveled in every which way
If money is paper then what are our words?
We spent all our patience but still are not heard
Is that the rising sun
Breaching through to wake us up
To the veil over our eyes
To our moral appetite
Woah(s)
Oooooooo-oh!
Oooooooo-oh!
So are we waking up
Have we waited long enough
Oh our voices are the blood
In this country that we love
That we love

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