I hear you talking away
You better stuff it up
I am your price to pay
Surfing up what's wrong with others
Don't mean you have a say or a face
So quit shaking down trees
You're only making false wind
So it can spread and land in everyone's hands
That ain't no master-plan
But you'd go miles and miles just to see us burn
Taking notice of what we lack not what we earned
And I'm sick of it.
I THINK YOU'VE LOST IMPORTANCE OF WHAT WE HOLD
To me you're just a crumb of dirt rubbed on into gold.
I'm losing patience, it's getting old.
You're Diseased.
You spread it all over
Writer(s): Assaf Yechezkel, Corey Ben Yehuda, Nadav Rotem, Yoni Zabari
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