Indk

Theyre stickin it to us now that were almost there
But its our job to keep the lies out of the breathing air
Are we in a position to pull an insurection
When its our job to keep
Corruption from total eruption
Off the track
Short on time
Human race
Fall behind
The Great Escape
The Vast Empire
The fields of mines
The cold barbed wire
Were faling out and withering away
Should we try and make a fairweather day
When the finish line is beyond far away
Theyre stickin it to us now that were almost there
Well never make it through the tear gass and the smoke filled air
Theyre killing everyone nameless and poor
Outside I struggle to survive
Its a fucking war
Were dying off and sinking away
Far beneath the wings of the Enola Gay
Where the podium is out of bullets range
[ Pole Position Lyrics ]