The hands that grab everything

​Verse 1
​Six AM, the alarm clock screamin' lies
Another twelve-hour shift just to watch the prices rise
Used to think hard work was a ladder to the top
Now it's just a treadmill that you can't stop
They talk about the boom, the big, bright, brand-new age
But the headlines on my phone are just a history page
'Cause the factory's gone dark, the small businesses are through
And the man in the corner office never had a clue.

(​Pre-Chorus)
​They send the cameras out to catch us when we fall
But they're deaf to the silence of the middle of it all.

(​Chorus)
​They sold the farm for a penthouse view
The Dollar King's in his golden cage
He doesn't care about me and he sure don't care about you.
It's an empty promise on a printed page.
They keep the spotlight bright on what makes us mad
Keep pointing fingers, make the whole thing bad
They call it politics, I call it a distraction plan
While the same hands are grabbing everything they can.


(Instrumental)


​Verse 2
​Check the newsfeed, it's a war in every scroll
Black versus white, and the fight for your soul
They hand out the labels like candy on the street
Anything to keep us from a handshake when we meet
We're so busy arguing who's right or who's wrong
We forget the puppet master singing his silent song
He don't care if you're red, he don't care if you're blue
He just cares that you're broke and you're easy to subdue.


(​Pre-Chorus)
​We need a flashlight, not another fire
To see who's really getting higher and higher.



(​Chorus)
​They sold the farm for a penthouse view
The Dollar King's in his golden cage
He doesn't care about me and he sure don't care about you.
It's an empty promise on a printed page.
They keep the spotlight bright on what makes us mad
Keep pointing fingers, make the whole thing bad
They call it politics, I call it a distraction plan
While the same hands are grabbing everything they can.


(​Guitar Solo)


(​Bridge)
​It ain't rocket science, and it ain't a complicated text
The people on the bottom are the people who are next.
When they tell you we're different, know they're talking to a fool
'Cause we're all standing in line for the same old golden rule:
The man with the money always makes the rules.


​Final Chorus (Full energy, drums kick in heavy)
​They sold the farm for a penthouse view
The Dollar King's in his golden cage
He doesn't care about me and he sure don't care about you!
It's an empty promise on a printed page.
They keep the spotlight bright on what makes us mad
Keep pointing fingers, make the whole thing bad
They call it politics, I call it a distraction plan
While the same hands are grabbing everything they can.


( instrumental)


​Outro
​Yeah, the same hands are grabbing everything they can. 
What this world would be without a government....

Country rock, male