Inflation Nation

[Verse 1]
Bills on the table, stacked like bricks
Paycheck bleeding through my fists
Boss man laughs in a gold-plated chair
Says, “Tighten your belt,” while we choke on air
[Chorus]
Welcome to Inflation Nation
Where the rich drink blood like wine
Middle class in strangulation
Getting the finger, standing in line
No one’s gonna save us
We’re burning at the station
Raise your fists in desperation
Welcome to Inflation Nation
[Verse 2]
Gas sign climbing like a funeral pyre
Cold fridge, warm fridge, cut the wire
Suit with a yacht and a tax-free grin
Says it’s the market, not his sin
[Chorus]
Welcome to Inflation Nation
Where the rich drink blood like wine
Middle class in strangulation
Getting the finger, standing in line
No one’s gonna save us
We’re burning at the station
Raise your fists in desperation
Welcome to Inflation Nation
[Bridge]
They sell our hope on a late-night screen
“Easy credit, live the dream”
But the chain on our neck says “property”
Whose freedom is this land of the free? (hey!)
[Chorus]
Welcome to Inflation Nation
Where the rich drink blood like wine
Middle class in strangulation
Getting the finger, standing in line
No one’s gonna save us
Yeah, we’re the lost foundation
Scream it out in defiance
Welcome to Inflation Nation

metal, 1980s arena metal, male vocals; twin-guitar attack with palm-muted riffs in the verses, galloping bass and double-kick under a huge shout-along chorus. Vocals start gritty and mid-range, soaring to high belts on the hook, with gang vocals on key lines. Face-melting solo over a halftime breakdown in the bridge, then a final, higher-key chorus to close., rich