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• Artiste: Three Nails For A False Prophet
• Titre: Anthem Of Matewan
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Crawl down the shafts at midnight, your shift becomes crusade. Inhale your death for profit, but you never see the money made. They take away your dignity, rob you of your pride. Your wrath is locked away, but it's boiling up...| INSIDE! INSIDE! INSIDE! can you feel it? can't you feel it?! INSIDE! INSIDE! INSIDE! can you feel it? can't you feel it?! Your payment is a pittance to spend on the company, your body a tool of no use, if you're makin no money. Turned against your fellow man, conquer by divide. Your rage is boiling, it's boiling up... The tension builds like steam in a pot of boiling water, and the lid is ready to blow right from the fucking top. A wheel is set in motion, crushing all beneath it; it'll take a massacre to make it fucking stop