[Verse] My hands are Pricked and torn, Wounded and worn, Don’t cry, Don’t cough, Only fools Know nothing of us, For we are the weeds. [Chorus] We are the weeds, They’ve hung a price tag on the war we didn’t choose, Whoa, Whoa-oh-oh, Whoa, Don’t let us die, Tire yourselves out, Devils, You’ve had enough, Enough of us, Keep your hands off us and our land. Bridge: What’s like be a free When you soul to be or no to be Whatever want, what a cost For faithless lies, closed eyes Nobody’s doesn’t nothing shall be
