Rid Them (John Arthur Brown Version) Video (MV)

This is the city
Stone and steel
And everything packaged in smog
Birds perched on the wire
Dropping on your thoughts
People finding food in the trash
Learning from the things that we trash
While we trash the things that we learn
This is the city
The brick and blood
The pervasive concrete ensemble
Overpriced coffeehouse talk
About the bridges and the hopes
Are they as sound as they seem?
A man with no tongue, preaching
Pointing and screaming
Even his song has a reason

Capitalism is not born from love or devils
Ringleaders notwithstanding, seeping
Systemic luring to chained food, traps
Heads within boxes
Mother's milk canned
I am Iron
Deficient and cold hearted
More often than not
Seeking nourishment wrapped in metal
A costly war waged with wages
I can't afford a perspective
There seems to only be refuge in faith
As I consume elements to further my skin
A mother holds her child
Standing in line
Driven into prayer by prices
Commercial goods have answered
As overpriced gods
Filling the shelves
Markets are temples
Bells, chants, jingles, chings
Every purchase awakens a ritual