New Millenium Homes

<br>Hungry people don`t stay hungry for long<br>They get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for tha dawn<br>Tha spirit of Jackson<br>Now screams through tha ruins<br>Through factory chains<br>And tha ghost of tha union<br>Tha forgotten remains<br>Disappear to their new homes<br>Tha knife tha thrust<br>Tha life burns to tha raw bone<br>Tha blood on tha floor of tha tear is still dryin`<br>Cover tha spread sheets<br>Tha Dow Jones skyin`<br>Tha cell block live stock<br>Tha bodies they buyin`<br>Old south order<br>New northern horizon<br><br>Violence is in all hands<br>Embrace it if need be<br>Livin` been warfare<br>I press it to CD<br><br>A fire in tha master`s house is set<br><br>Check tha high tech terror<br>Of tha new order athletes<br>Peering into tha eyes of tha child already on trial<br>These armies rippin` families apart<br>Get `em on file<br>Convictions fit tha stock profile<br>All tha while films of dogs<br>Ripping through homes<br>Ripping skin from bones<br>Yes tha new millennium homes<br>Privatizing through private eyes<br>An era rising <br>Of tha old south order<br>New northern horizon<br><br>Violence is in all hands<br>Embrace it if need be<br>Livin` been warfare<br>I press it to CD<br><br>A fire in tha master`s house is set<br><br>11.Ashes in the Fall <br>A mass of hands press on the market window<br>Ghosts of progress<br>Dressed in slow death<br>Feeding on hunger<br>And glaring through the promise<br>Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle<br>A mass of nameless at the oasis<br>That hides the graves beneath the master`s hill<br>Are buried for drinking<br>The river`s water<br>While shackled to the line<br>At the empty well<br><br>This is the new sound<br>Just like the old sound<br>Just like the noose wound<br>Over the new ground<br><br>Listen to the fascist sing<br>"Take hope here<br>War is elsewhere<br>You were chosen<br>This is god`s land<br>Soon we`ll be free<br>Of blot and mixture<br>Seeds planted by our <br>Forefather`s hand"<br><br>A mass of promises<br>Begin to rupture<br>Like the pockets <br>Of the new world kings<br>Like swollen stomachs<br>In Appalachia<br>It`s the priests that fuck you<br>As they whisper holy things<br>A mass of tears have transformed to stones now<br>Sharpened on suffering<br>And woven into slings<br>Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress<br>Taking today what tomorrow never brings<br><br>This is the new sound<br>Just like the old sound<br>Just like the noose wound<br>Over the new ground<br><br>Ain`t it funny how the factory doors close<br>Round the time that the school doors close<br>Round the time that the doors of the jail cells<br>Open up to greet you like the reaper<br><br>Ain`t it funny how the factory doors close<br>Round the time that the school doors close<br>Round the time that the doors of the jail cells<br>Open up to greet you like the reaper<br><br>This is the new sound<br>Just like the old sound<br>Just like the noose wound<br>Over the new ground<br><br>Like ashes in the fall