The Hanging Bandits - King's Culture Lyrics

Kings culture is built on bones
His castle is built on the dead
His phone was made by a man surrounded by
Dead air and suicide nets
Its circuitry is lined with minerals
Mined from a conflict zone
Prospector died with pick axe in hand
While the kings hands were dripping with gold

And now this prison camps alive
And it's all toxic in the morning
Theres constant movement in the tunnels
Wheels spin but find no distance
Its just the greyness as i've seen it
Painted by numbered bus stops
A taste disguising sweat
A tear for coins we've lost
This man don't care for stains
Can't build an empire on a smile
He's seen his enemies
Die in war