We're all victims of the system still we love to place the blame We're running out of choices and there's no rules to the game I'm getting tired of feeling this way What can a single man do, what can he say Every day you walk the edge of a knife You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket They'll stop you like a heart attack
We put people into power but we fight our wars alone They take such good care of the rest of the world, but what about the folks At home, oh yeah Point the finger at the man you chose He'll say he's sorry but it's just the way it goes He sits in judgement like a king on a throne 'Till that November when he'll beg for a bone
They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket Brother, don't ignore the facts
Every day you walk the edge of a knife You're left with nothing at the end of your life They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket They'll stop you like a heart attack
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Copy to Clipboard: We're all victims of the system still we love to place the blame We're running out of choices and there's no rules to the game I'm getting tired of feeling this way What can a single man do, what can he say Every day you walk the edge of a knife You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket They'll stop you like a heart attack
We put people into power but we fight our wars alone They take such good care of the rest of the world, but what about the folks At home, oh yeah Point the finger at the man you chose He'll say he's sorry but it's just the way it goes He sits in judgement like a king on a throne 'Till that November when he'll beg for a bone
They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket Brother, don't ignore the facts
Every day you walk the edge of a knife You're left with nothing at the end of your life They've got their hands in your pocket They'll take the clothes off your back Hands in your pocket They'll stop you like a heart attack
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