Dirtscraper

Would you chase your fears, down the rabbit hole

You're a heathen in a world of true believers

Leave no cross unturned, in the bog below

Serve no masters, scrape the dirt of the deceivers

Scrape!

Would you curse yourself, for the motherload?

Kill your idols and break the grabbing hands

Step up to the front, play the waiting game

Start a fire and the world will understand

Why do you still care?

Why do you feed the money machine?

Why?

The money machine

Would you sell yourself, for a masterplan?

Satisfaction is the death of your desire

Watch them stand in line, for some novelty

They hear nothing but the ramblings of a liar

Why do you pretend?

Why do you feed the money machine?

Why?

The money machine

Living under false pretend

Underneath a veil

Feeling somewhat mesmerized

In this living hell

Heroes getting paralyzed

Crushed within their shell

Go and scrape the dirt away

Go and make this world ok!

Do you need the money machine?

Do you even care?