Intro

All for one where the garden grows
Where the money stops is the end of the road
Where the thumpers feast on their daily breads
And the bourgeoisie make amends with their red pens
Singing kumbaya to a crowd of thralls
From the safety of a security wall
Where the hypocrites and the charlatans cut our right hands off just to spite the left

Verse

Watching from a distance
As these ghouls count their rеmittance
While I question my own pittancе
All returns feel so diminished
When they speak it's only sibilance
Only rattle traps and hisses
So befitting of these civil serpents
Maybe I’m a cynic

Verse

But I'm getting tired of watching
The bad seeds in the wind
Because imaginary borders don't defend
Against populist plots and idea men
Of the "get rich entirely at your expense"
Blend of sycophant humans
The temp in the room is through the roof, yes
This political Coriolis effect
Has me stressed way beyond my own extent
Defense via offense, my only option, next

Chorus

And it’s all for one where the garden grows
Where the money stops is the end of the road
Where the thumpers feast on their daily breads
And the bourgeoisie make amends with their red pens
Singing kumbaya to a crowd of thralls
From the safety of a security wall

Bridge

As it all went down in the U.S.A
I saw world events start to shift and change
I saw cowards emboldened to spread their hate
I saw powers emerge from beyond the grave
I heard scoffing, like ''that could never be here''
Within a few years, Kevin O'Leary and Ford sowed fears
BLM, queer, and indigenous rights on a downturn
Housing crises left and right, slow burn

Chorus

All for one where the garden grows
Where the money stops is the end of the road
Where the thumpers feast on their daily breads
And the bourgeoisie make amends with their red pens
Singing kumbaya to a crowd of thralls
From the safety of a security wall

Outro

The power held is all for one

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