Ready pa'la Acción We the darkness they paved over with interstate, the megawatt reasons for their profits and our hate. The relentless advance of a progress that ain't great, a digital force that rusts the factory gate. Sparks used to fly here, now it's just ghosts in the steel, we're the busted circuits of their American ideal. Zeros and ones like pink slips, man, that pain is real, the data screams foreclosure, a wound that'll never heal. This ain't emotion, son, it's a nuclear reaction, a slow burn of the soul with zero satisfaction. We are the factory with no feelin'! Just precision parts for a dream that they're stealin'! No second doubts, just a high-tension ceiling! Their damn marginalization is the truth we're revealing! They toast with the blood of the hands that did the building! They hide the poor man, the laid-off, the broke and the bent, behind a flag and a promise that was never meant. They want the 85 enslaved to the dollar and the cent, ignorant of the knowledge that their own spirit sent. But we the Five Percent, the ones the foreman never saw, the ones who read the fine print of their corporate law. We see the beautiful math in the middle of the raw, and we're drawin' a new line that they ain't allowed to cross. This high-tension ain't in the wires, it's in our damn bones, a legacy of silence, forgotten on these rolling loans. They took the land from the People... then they poisoned it with industry... They gave us a paycheck to forget our own history... But the earth remembers... the soul remembers... ...what it means to be truly free. ] We are the factory with no feelin'! Just precision parts for a dream that they're stealin'! No second doubts, just a high-tension ceiling! Their damn marginalization is the truth we're revealing! They toast with the blood of the hands that did the building! (The rust... it just keeps creepin'... But under it... somethin's growin'... Somethin' real...) R-R-Ready pa'la Acción The fucking joke is over
