live to labor

in the cold dead of night

wrest your self from sleep

to face the morning light

so pathologically

trapped in a system that breaks originality

in favor of bland safe marketability

middle of a long day

turns into working long weeks

what are we doing this for

whose fucking stocks will increase

at times we're all just little junkies and whores

clawing scratching unattainable dreams

how much can we take

to labor and to break

our backs against the system's walls

i say smash it fucking down

in control of our fate

we produce and we create

the guns from which we sell our souls

i say smash it fucking all

how ironic is the plan of our lives

working doubles to survive

to get by

a passionless job in a meaningless lie

i despise being trite to get by

what do you offer?

what can you create?

what do you contribute?

what profit is made?

how much can we take

to labor and to break

our backs against the system's walls

i say smash it fucking down

in control of our fate

we produce and recreate

the cost for which we sell our souls

i say smash it fucking all

i say smash it fucking down

smash it fucking down

how much can we take

to labor and to break

our backs against the system's walls

i say smash it fucking down

in control of our fate

we produce and we create

the guns from which we sell our souls

i say smash it fucking all

i say smash it fucking all