Your head is dead
Though you can move your feet
Hopelessness
Is the first thing that comes to mind
Bring it down
And nobody cares one bit
It's far away
And we don't know them at all
You make it sound
Like you really care about them
And all you do
Is for their own benefit
Incredible
The way you can lie to them
Maybe not
They'll listen to anyone
How it worked
Nobody knows or cares
When walls come down
The bills will be sent to you
Open air
Is something you never see
Dictate your will
And blow up your enemies
Show no discretion
Everybody knows
You're just lucky they don't care
Maybe i'm mistaken
Perhaps it's not your fault
Perhaps it's everybody else
You dug your hole, now lay in it
Then cover it up, like you always do
You made me be political
Help me, someday i'll dig my own
Writer(s): Skuli Gestsson, Jon Bjarni Petursson, Haukur Heidar Hauksson, Jon Thor Sigurdsson, Jon Sigurdsson, Jon Petursson, Haukur Hauksson
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