I blistered my fingers when I
Sold home to a fake but I could break the bank
Fuck a window for the pain, stone or a chain
Inside hell but the eyes read the same
He's sitting in a cell or he's waiting on a train
Everyday taking out the bad from the bane
And the good from the maimed
And the company cranes
Sick boys are bleeding out brains
I was bleeding out stains and getting my wage
Stuck in a storm I always shake
Fuck an empty hand on what mine made
I find the same, in sisters and killers relate
They stuck behind bars
Or get fucked behind wheels of their cars
They sit in the dark and they wait
They're comparing scars
Chinatown writer writes SARS
Their love was born to state

If word is bond, I am a wage slave
Tether my arms and my wrist with these chains
Cause I blistered my fingers when I...
Well caress my arms and my wrists with these chains
[?]
Caress my arms with these chains
[?]

Caress my wrists...
Well caress my arms and my wrists with these chains
[?]
Caress my arms with these chains
[?]