Starving in dirt no shelter or work scavenge the wasteland for a shred of hope safe in their towers the masters look down gold in their fingers eternal control hiding in rubble in concrete and slag wait for the moment knife always in hand living... Waiting... To die come on... Pick up... The knife they pulled the trigger and started the war greed is their sickness fire is the cure fire is the cure... Living... Waiting... To die come on... Pick up... The knife pick up the knife