歌词
Bite the hand because the hand it feeds
And the way it feeds, it chains me to my knees
Like roots to the ground, and dead in the cold hard graves
So won’t you drop your hammers on them all
As the skies above, they yearn to fall
Into the roots in the ground and dead in the cold hard graves
Just know it rears its ugly head in time
The beast that swallows all your lights and sounds
Pulls roots from the ground, and dead from the cold hard graves
And then it sweeps the land in every shade of black
Crooked teeth gnashing on dreams you had
Like roots in the ground, and dead from the cold hard graves.
But maybe it’s meant to save us all
In this age of heroes
Maybe it’s meant to save us all
From an age of heroes.
You never looked, you didn’t mind
It’s the price you pay for wool over your eyes
Like roots in the ground and dead in the cold hard graves