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 is cooking and they're farming babies, while the slaves are working
The blood is on the table and their mouths are chocking
But I'm growing 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 is cooking and they're farming babies, while the slaves are working
And it's on the table, their mouths are chocking
But I'm growing hungry (Growing hungry)
I'm growing hungry (Growing hungry)
I'm growing hungry (Growing hungry)
I'm growing hungry (Growing hungry)
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