Artless Hands

Artless hands just cut a deal No opportunity to appeal It’s your time, your craft It’s your exposure Artless hands, soaked in blood Unloading records from the back of a truck It’s your work, your life It’s your chance to say goodbye You call it your right, we call it your weakness You’d like to get paid, we offer you greatness You think that you’re due some form of compensation You call it your right? then try to collect it. Are times really so rough? Is thirty dollars not enough? You can’t claim we don’t pay Look at these pennies! What do you hope to see Biting the hand that doesn’t feed It’s your move, your choice Not our responsibility. You call it your right, we call it your weakness You’d like to get paid, we offer you greatness You think that you’re due some form of compensation You call it your right? then try to collect it. If you wanna be with me Baby there’s a price to pay We demand a pound of flesh And your mother’s maiden name When this castle finally falls And the gates are opened wide Please try not to look surprised When there’s nothing left inside