[Verse 1]
Well the fiery five points came from Queen of Babylon
Rotten rapture and lines of lives that came undone
And how cool wind blew their dreams away like paper cups
Now they're bound and bearing the shadows of the gun
Let's sing
And the stranded señoritas fall and take a knee
For the anthem, believe a dark and rising drum
While the cholos in their Chevrolets and mercy streets
And the shiny wall for the bankers and the Bronx
Then they line the halls of the prison it becomes
[Chorus]
But maybe we will be free
When the battle lines meet
Maybe they will be one
When the counting is done
Yeah, maybe they will be free
When the reckoning comes
[Verse 2]
So the choir boys hide their voices, bruised and out of tune
While the priestess of the harbor rides a wave
And the bar girls drown their choices in their silver spoons
With a junkman's nightmare crashing in their veins
And the rich ride silver horses to their waiting ships
While the poor cry out for justice and cocaine
And they all bow down to the new crown of the apocalypse
As he stabs the truth and slides out onto the stage
Then as the footlocks melt the grease paint from his face
It's very hard to tell the master from his slaves
Well the fiery five points came from Queen of Babylon
Rotten rapture and lines of lives that came undone
And how cool wind blew their dreams away like paper cups
Now they're bound and bearing the shadows of the gun
Let's sing
And the stranded señoritas fall and take a knee
For the anthem, believe a dark and rising drum
While the cholos in their Chevrolets and mercy streets
And the shiny wall for the bankers and the Bronx
Then they line the halls of the prison it becomes
[Chorus]
But maybe we will be free
When the battle lines meet
Maybe they will be one
When the counting is done
Yeah, maybe they will be free
When the reckoning comes
[Verse 2]
So the choir boys hide their voices, bruised and out of tune
While the priestess of the harbor rides a wave
And the bar girls drown their choices in their silver spoons
With a junkman's nightmare crashing in their veins
And the rich ride silver horses to their waiting ships
While the poor cry out for justice and cocaine
And they all bow down to the new crown of the apocalypse
As he stabs the truth and slides out onto the stage
Then as the footlocks melt the grease paint from his face
It's very hard to tell the master from his slaves
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