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lyrics

I was warned not to make deals with gods,
because I cannot hold them to their word.
But nobody said anything about this paper dragon,
Made up of all the contracts signed for me involuntarily
in the sleep before my birth.

And now I am shackled to him.
And I keep on marching,
because he keeps on marching.
Though I pull the opposite way,
with all the strength I can muster.
And there are millions like me.
All being drug behind him,
crippled and braindead by
the impact of the ground,
shaking at the strength of his resolve
and the weight of his claws.

Freedom cannot be given by chains,
so I say we abandon this hopeless silence.
Take some gasoline and light a match,
to burn him to the dirt and bury his ashes
in the sand and the sound of our song.
“Leviathan, hail no more! The old god is dead!”

credits

from Hands As Those Of Mice, released January 3, 2014

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Révolution Industrielle Los Angeles, California

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