Turn

my

mic

up

louder

I

got

to

say

some-

thing

Light-

weights

step-

ping

aside,

When

we

come

in

Feel

it

in

your

chest

The

syl-

lab-

les

get

pump-

ing

Peo-

ple

on

the

street

They

pa-

nic

and

start

run-

ning

Words

on

loose

leaf

Sheet

comp-

lete

com-

ing

I

jump

on

my

mind

I

sum-

mon

the

rhyme

I'm

dump-

ing

Heal-

ing

the

blind

I

pro-

mise

to

let

the

sun

in

Sick

of

the

dark

ways

We

march

to

the

drum-

ming

Jump

when

they

tell

us

They

want

to

see

jump-

ing

Fuck

that,

I

want

to

See

some

fist

pump-

ing

Risk

some-

thing

Take

back

what's

yours

Say

some-

thing

that

you

know

They

might

a-

ttack

you

for

'Cause

I'm

sick

of

be-

ing

treat-

ed

Like

I

had

be-

fore

Like

it's

stu-

pid

stand-

ing

for

What

I'm

stand-

ing

for

Like

this

war

is

really

just

A

diffe-

rent

brand

of

war

Like

it

doesn't

cater

the

rich

And

an

a-

ban-

don

the

poor

Like

they

un-

der-

stand

you

In

the

back

of

the

jet

When

you

can't

put

gas

in

your

tank

These

fu-

ckers

are

laugh-

ing

their

way

To

the

bank

and

cash-

ing

their

check

Ask-

ing

you

to

have

com-

pas-

sion

and

to

have

some

re-

spect

For

a

lead-

er

so

ner-

vous

In

an

ob-

vi-

ous

way

Stut-

ter-

ing

and

mum-

bl-

ing

For

night-

ly

news

to

re-

play

And

the

rest

of

the

world

Watch-

ing

at

the

end

of

the

day

In

the

liv-

ing

room

laugh-

ing

Like

what

did

he

say?

In

my

liv-

ing

room

watch-

ing

But

I

am

not

laugh-

ing

'Cause

when

it

gets

tense

I

know

what

might

hap-

pen

The

world

is

cold

The

bold

men

take

act-

ion

Have

to

re-

act

Or

get

blown

in-

to

fract-

ions

Ten

years

old

is

some-

thing

to

see

An-

other

kid

my

age

drugged

un-

der

a

jeep

Ta-

ken

and

bound

and

found

lat-

er

un-

der

a

tree

I

wonder

if

he

thought

the

"next

one

could

be

me"

Do

you

see?

The

sold-

iers

they're

out

to-

day

That

brush

the

dust

from

bul-

let-

proof

vests

a-

way

It's

i-

ro-

nic

At

times

like

this

you

pray

But

a

bomb

blew

the

mos-

que

up

yes-

ter-

day

There's

bombs

in

the

bus-

es,

bikes,

roads

In-

side

your

mark-

ets,

your

shops,

your

clothes

My

dad,

he's

got

a

lot

of

fear

I

know

But

e-

nough

pride

in-

side

not

to

let

that

show

My

bro-

ther

had

a

book

he

would

hold

with

pride

A

lit-

tle

red

co-

ver

with

a

brok-

en

spine

In

the

back

he

hand

wrote

a

quote

in-

side

When

the

rich

wage

war,

it's

the

poor

who

die

Mean-

while,

the

lead-

er

just

talks

a-

way

Stut-

ter-

ing

and

mum-

bl-

ing

For

night-

ly

news

to

re-

play

And

the

rest

of

the

world

Watch-

ing

at

the

end

of

the

day

Both

scared

and

ang-

ry

Like

what

did

he

say?

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you

With

hands

held

high

In-

to

a

sky

so

blue

The

o-

cean

o-

pens

up

To

swal-

low

you