Letra de Ghost Healers And Stockholders

this place is a wasteland asphalt grows under us like grass beauty hiding in cracks you wish you'd stumble in monorail disposal culture crushes voices in the wilderness truth set for one pace lip service to the worlds superpowers multinational death squads and stock markets keep the beat on for the mechanics of lives lost... cutting moments to little pieces our traumas lie on the brink of a dying dream and somewhere in the middle dignity dies fight back free will