There's a dirty little town on the east side of a city made of plastic goldnWhere the the old come to die and the young have to dig all the holesnThey take their dirty little lies to grave with 'emnThat they brought along in luggage with no names on 'emnAnd leave behind boxes filled with all their soulsnCrushing us in this black hole In this black..nnIts our time to take it backnBeat the walls until the cracknBurn the city to the groundnnLook in every damn direction for a way out from the wall of people closing in Reaching for my pockets taking every single penny they cannThey got their fat fingers stuck inside the pocket ofnPeople doing anything to make a bucknTaking every opportunity they can to hurt usnThen complaining that we don't trust!nnNo we shouldn't trust them..nIts our time to take it backnBeat the walls until the cracknBurn the city to the groundnnIts our time to take it backnBeat the walls until the cracknBurn the city to the groundnnin the middle of a one horseneverybody knows mentelling my business town.nin the middle of a dead stopnTraffic jam city.nDoing everythingto keep me downnIn the back of a line of peoplenWaiting for death to comenSo I'm skipping to the frontnSo I can show'em how it's donennIts our time to take it backnBeat the walls until the cracknBurn the city to the ground