Ashes in the Fall Rage Against the Machine

[Verse 1]
A mass of hands press on the market window
Ghosts of progress dressed in slow death
Feeding on hunger and glaring through the promise
Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle
A mass of nameless at the oasis
That hides the graves beneath the master's hill
Buried for drinking the river's water while
Shackled to the the line at the empty well

[Chorus]
This is the new sound, just like the old sound
Just like the noose wound over the new ground
This is the new sound, just like the old sound
Just like the noose wound over new ground

[Post-Chorus]
Listen to the fascist sing
"Take hope here, war is elsewhere
You were chosen, this is God's land
Soon we'll be free of blot and mixture
Seeds planted by our forefathers' hand"

[Verse 3]
A mass of promises begin to rupture
Like the pockets of the new world kings
Like swollen stomachs In Appalachia
Like the priest that fucked you as he whispered holy things
A mass of tears have transformed the stones now
Sharpened on suffering and woven into the slings
Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress
Taking today what tomorrow never brings