It's like boiling water, just to tug on the steam
Or running in a race, just to run from a dream
We'll be burning our chairs, just to keep from the cold
Or drilling a hole just searching for hell, ringing satins red
Door bell with an oil rigging well
It's like waking up in the night to a horrible smell
Burning flesh from the shale and a house full of kids
Bone's turn to ashes while pockets turn to gold.
It's like somebody took, a knife to your chest, filled a vessel with your blood
And decided to test, how much money you can make from k**ing someone,
Can this blood on our hands replace the water that runs?
Can this blood our hands replace the water that runs?
How much money you can make from k**ing someone?