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letras de
Strike Anywhere
SPEAK TO OUR EMPTY POCKETS
0 opinión
Letra y Significado de
SPEAK TO OUR EMPTY POCKETS,
Strike Anywhere
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Letra
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Envia tu opinión de SPEAK TO OUR EMPTY POCKETS
Envia tu opinión de SPEAK TO OUR EMPTY POCKETS
The preachers from the pulpits of power
leaders of cloth
they preach to our empty pockets
and the same gang with different colors
plays up to the dialect
of establishment
Will you take our pain
will you throw bread
to us from high above?
We will stay true to trust
on these streets
but I won't be corrupted
or stuck on repeat
The preachers from the pulpits of power
leaders of cloth they preach
to our empty pockets
and the same gang
with different colors
plays up, raise up
any flag we fly
any war we buy it
any war
Will you take our pain
and will you throw bread
to us from high above?
Will you take our pain?
Will you throw bread
to us from high above?
We will stay true to trust
on these streets
but I won't be corrupted
or stuck on repeat
yet
The workers' rage in the empire days
The ratchet thrown in the children's mills
the bootstrap lies in the Patriot Plays
The burning fires on these hills
this road grows
The preachers from the pulpits of power
leaders of cloth
they preach to our empty pockets
and the same gang with different colors
plays up to the dialect
of establishment
Will you take our pain?
Will you throw bread
to us from high above?
Corregir Letra
Corregir Letra
The preachers from the pulpits of power leaders of cloth they preach to our empty pockets and the same gang with different colors plays up to the dialect of establishment Will you take our pain will you throw bread to us from high above? We will stay true to trust on these streets but I won't be corrupted or stuck on repeat The preachers from the pulpits of power leaders of cloth they preach to our empty pockets and the same gang with different colors plays up, raise up any flag we fly any war we buy it any war Will you take our pain and will you throw bread to us from high above? Will you take our pain? Will you throw bread to us from high above? We will stay true to trust on these streets but I won't be corrupted or stuck on repeat yet The workers' rage in the empire days The ratchet thrown in the children's mills the bootstrap lies in the Patriot Plays The burning fires on these hills this road grows The preachers from the pulpits of power leaders of cloth they preach to our empty pockets and the same gang with different colors plays up to the dialect of establishment Will you take our pain? Will you throw bread to us from high above?
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