Under the Gun

If f-18's are doves,
and M-16's are love,
then peace is not at all what I thought it would be
I’m tired of hearing 'bout another bomb.
Another drone ripping a family apart.
I’m sick of safety at expense of the weak.
I hate Democracy speech by Oligarchy regimes.
I’m pissed that money is the ruler of man.
I’m pissed we’re separate and so distracted.
I’m pissed that no one ever really cares or understands all blood is our blood.
Hate.
Hate,
but we’re calling it love.
Love.
Love,
but it looks like war.
They say,
«Don't think. You just need to believe.»
May my voice be the bomb at the belly of the beast.
But my heart is aching.
And my mind is racing.
You know we’re under the gun.
Is it too late to love?
Too late to wake up?
Can’t take from me.
My agency means everything to me.
Cannot take my will.
I’m sick of funding other people’s greed.
Out taxes paying for their acid rain and barium.
I hate our system that hates the poor and the laws that protect oppressors I
deplore.
I’m hella sick of being told I’m watched.
They hear and record my calls.
I’m so pissed with how we’ve treated our home.
I want my children to be born into a beautiful world.
But my heart is aching.
And my mind is racing.
You know we’re under the gun.
Is it too late to love?
Too late to wake up?
But my heart is aching.
And my mind is racing.
You know we’re under the gun.
Is it too late to love?
Too late to wake up?
We’re fit to be sold,
do what we’re told,
work to the bone until we grow old.
We’re taught to become bitter and cold.
Put your head down while they eat you.
We’re fit to be sold,
do what we’re told,
work to the bone until we grow old.
We’re taught to become bitter and cold.
Put your head down while they eat you.
But my heart is aching.
And my mind is racing.
You know we’re under the gun.
Is it too late to love?
Too late to wake up?
But my heart is aching.
And my mind is racing.
You know we’re under the gun.
Is it too late to love?
Too late to wake up?