At the top of the hill they don't know their own strength Squeezing silver 'till the eagle screams Circulation is tortured and mutilated Deformed and bolted down in steel brackets When there's space between your gears, You move slow away from suffocation Oiled down it's meant to ride low Remember when you could live off dad In his mud castle at the bottom of the fault line Life-o-suction - fierce and hungry was to be the motto Building a revolution with toothpick and glue Now working the sore arm into a numb confusion of constant mode, Afflicting the muscle to further strengthen the dexterity of the worker You gotta let them be - senseless - penniless Everything they want you to be Melt your skin stunt your growth