Tekster: Rise Against. Endgame. Disparity By Design.

:
awake at the bottom
of the barrels we cry out
so ashamed of our tears that
we blame only ourselves
that's when they win
they keep us convinced
to lift up our chins
these playing fields are level
we all have a chance
with that they dismiss
the fast lanes they row
what it takes, it depends on who you know
or where you came from
whose daughter are you?
whose fortunate son?
will it so
to stick up our bones
and piece from the letters
how we settled the crimes

is this an over-reaching arm
or is this compassion?
is this a handout undeserved
or a just reparation?
(a just reparation)

away from the towers
high above the ceiling tombs
tell themselves
that they've earned this
like working hard
or playing by the rules
but this is only part true
a dangerous trick
played on me and you
and so like a practical joke
we put on these bootstraps
so high that they broke

is this an over-reaching arm
or is this compassion?
is this a handout undeserved
or a just reparation?

and like a single domino
that falls while the rest stay vertical
will you fear these empty fairytales
or will you believe them?

and if fear's a game
you better pray
that this sleeping giant never wakes

if we just take a step back
a bigger picture we might view
perhaps the man in the gutter
is not so different from you

come in, all of the cold
forget all that you know
because there's always been room
by the fire for you, oh
come in, all of the cold

will you believe them?
is this an over-reaching arm
or is this compassion?
is this a handout undeserved
or a just reparation?
and like a single domino
that falls while the rest stay vertical
will you fear these empty fairytales
or will you believe them?