I don't mind
Stealing Bread
From the mouths of decadence

But I can't feed on the powerless
When my cup's already overfilled
But it's on the table,
The fire's cooking
And they're starving babies,
And the slaves are all working

Blood is on the table,
The mouths are choking

I'm going hungry

I don't mind
Stealing Bread
From the mouths of decadence

But I can't feed on the powerless
When my cup's already overfilled
But it's on the table,
The fire's cooking
And they're starving babies,
And the slaves are all working

And it's on the table,
The mouths are choking

I'm going hungry

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