There's a man at ten Who couldn't make a three He's got blood on his hands And blood on his sheets He know's what's good For you and me His hands are washed But never clean Good times Never been so bad Of rich men's things Poor men dream But greed is a prison You never break free There's a hole in my sky And sh** in my sea The earth is bleeding Beneath my feet Good times Never been so bad You fire your arrows You don't care where they land Turn my world To dust and sand Where's the captain Where's his band Of cut throat thugs We want them hanged Truth and justice All wrapped up in rag The jokes on us We've all been had Good times Never been so bad