كلمات Tragic Heroin

High tides Titanic strides through twisted metal Red Roads brought low Once more into the breach Up rusted rungs you reach Up blank stares you climb Up, up through rime and ruin Tiers OF concrete tears of undoing Hostages all at gunpoint They spun the wheel and hoped That what they had was sellable One’s labor must be sellable The violence goes deeper Violence indelible No great men Only the great many I have a feeling I have a feeling That it’s falling apart at the seams And that the people And that the people in the gutters Recognize their means I hear the meaning I hear the meaning of the whispers Sprayed upon the doors Now comes the hour Now comes the hour that the needle Will pierce the spoken-for Fuelled with your labor Built with your bones There are no great men Only the great many