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lyrics

The secrete is that we are all slaves in this fucked up lifeless place
Working us like dogs to perform the same meaningless task, for what?
A coloured piece of paper with numbers and a photo of the ones who enslavers face
A hollow reward to keep us quite for our hard work, why to we keep going back everyday, the question few seem to ask

Evil corporations working us to death, not to the point where we drop down and die
But to the point we lose our selves, lose our minds give up and submit
It’s a form of slavery, Invisible to the naked eye
A long complicated knot winding through human rights

I sit and watch all the ones that lost there minds attached to the things they bought
All of it just to keep themselves preoccupied so they don’t have to face the truth
Everything we be buy today is designed to keep us from noticing what we’ve become

The worst of it all is the people who have done this to us are victims of there own creation
They themselves see what they’ve done to the quality of life, the endless destruction
Consumed with greed, the goal in mind to feed the monster that keeps them alive
Relentlessly they strive to stay on top a constant struggle to they day they die

Passing down corrupt traditions from generation to generation
Never happy with what they have always wanting more
Constantly looking down on us just taking form the poor
Kicking us around treating us like animals not expecting a retaliation

At this point in time the future is easy to predict
Its impossible now to live life to the fullest
The only way out is one gun and one bullet

credits

from Indians At The Liquor Store, released January 1, 2012
Josh Bandola: Lyrics, Guitars
Arthur McKay: Vocals

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WarDance Winnipeg, Manitoba

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