Crisis Lyrics
"Waking The Dead"

Wake up from utopian artifice,
long may the glass houses break.
Art of war wields words as weapons,
long may the glass houses break.

Long may the glass houses break!

We bear scars of the chaos of wealthy lies,
we occupy a beggar's life in privileged eyes.

Disastrous vultures of gluttonous egos,
give deadly silence to the burning ghettos.

Whoa....

Wake up from utopian artifice,
long may the glass houses break.
Art of war wields words to break, break, break!

Wealthy, cultivated thieves,
breed futures of uncertainty,
power lusts for empowered trysts,
we're their sacrificial lambs.
They reap us to sow seeds of affluence.
We're their sacrificial scabs!

Whoa.... Whoa.... Whoa....

Watch out!
There's fire in the Hearts of the unsung.
Watch out!
There's fire in the Hearts of the unsung,

Long may the glass houses break!
Long may the glass houses break!

Angels of the bottomless pit nurture our downfall, our downfall.