You're all prostitutes to the lutheran ethic
He who does not work shalt have nothing to eat
But there is nothing honest about a day's work
Under the adage that holds property as natural law
Leave your place by the machine
Leave your place on the cotton field
The abolishment of slavery did never happen
It's but a construction to avoid responsibility
We're the perfect asset as we feed and house ourselves
And thus I maintain: property is theft
Give the tools and the commons back to us
Leave your place
I hope we'll hear
The sound of tools jamming gears
As the downtrodden rise to see
How they have been played as fools
Into sustaining this order
Until then the fact will always remain
That he who has the gold makes the rules

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