[Intro – detuned riff, whispered, dry] Upstream, they pour it. Downstream, we drink. [Verse 1 – shouted, rhythmic staccato, rap-metal delivery] They paved the field and sold the rain, Then buried rivers under tar, Labelled the poison "growth" and "gain," Swore the damage wouldn't go far. Smokestacks sing in the boardroom's glow, Pens still scratch while the forest burns, Each dollar a drop in the flow, Nobody pays, nobody learns. [Pre-Chorus – gang shouts, call and response, drums punching] Who signed it off? (THE SUITS!) Who cashed it in? (THE SUITS!) Who's drinking it? (WE ARE!) Who's paying for it? (WE ARE!) [Chorus – anthemic, soaring melodic vocals, thick stacked harmonies] There is no upstream, there is no shore, Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run, All that you dump comes back to the door, We drink the poison, every last one. [Verse 2 – faster, spat, relentless] Lobbyists whisper, laws will bend, The regulators look away, Shareholders cheer the quarter's end, Somebody else's kids will pay. Sell you "green" in a plastic bag, Trade the smoke like a baseball card, Wrap the whole planet in a flag, Say that the cleanup's far too hard. [Pre-Chorus – gang shouts, call and response] Who signed it off? (THE SUITS!) Who cashed it in? (THE SUITS!) Who's drinking it? (WE ARE!) Who's paying for it? (WE ARE!) [Chorus – anthemic, soaring melodic vocals, thick stacked harmonies] There is no upstream, there is no shore, Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run, All that you dump comes back to the door, We drink the poison, every last one. [Bridge – half-time, eerie nursery-rhyme sing-song, almost whispered] The smoke fell down and made the rain, The rain ran down and fed the fish, The river fed the fields of grain, The fish and grain filled up your dish. And now your child will clean the plate, And the doctors shrug: "It's too late." [Breakdown – all instruments cut, then one heavy stomping riff, shouted] You knew. (YOU KNEW!) You read the numbers. (YOU KNEW!) You signed anyway. (YOU KNEW!) [Verse 3 – fastest, spat, no room to breathe] They've bought the hills, they've dug the vault, A bunker with a garden view, Clean air for them, and ours the fault, Front-row seats as we choke on cue. They'll sell you guilt, they'll sell you straws, A paper cup to save the day, While they fly private, break the laws, Then shrug and say "That's just the way." [Final Chorus – bigger, raw, gang vocals doubling the lead] There is no upstream, there is no shore, No vault, no bunker, nowhere to run, All that you dump comes back to the door, We drink the poison, every last one. [Outro – call and response, then whisper] Who signed it off? (THE SUITS!) Who's drinking it? (WE ARE!) Who's gonna stop it? Who's gonna stop it? (whispered) There is no upstream. [End]
