Wars never cease to insult yet amaze
The ability of the butcher
To win the favor of the cattle

The great unwashed dig their graves
Into which they will gladly lie
So willing to $#&@ing die

For those who owe their privilege
To the grinding of the poor


Month after month
Year after year
For those who owe their privilege

To the grinding of the poor
Fall on your sword


Blood tribute paid to this god, capital
Lives sacrificed to this Moloch of greed
For those who owe their privilege

To the grinding of the poor
Fall on your sword