The PriVILEged

from Hallowed Grind III: Season of the Wound by Bite Wound

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lyrics

The PriVILEdged
A generation of self-important beggars
Born to receive and happy to accept
A taste for only that which they have never earned
But proud to flaunt the shit they’ve managed to acquire

Until that fateful day
When handouts are revoked
The giver turns the tide
The easy life is taken
A shell remains
No longer can they function
A rotting carcass
Potential effort causing decay

Arms extended, like zombies they wander
Feeling the world should be placed in their hands
Their lifeline stripped, and forced to fend
No choice but to devour those they have lived off

Attacking those who enabled
Their flaunted lethargy
Biting the hands that fed
As well as the arms and heads
But soon exhaustion sets in
Hard work taking its toll
The realization that they’re
Working for their food

They all begin to collapse, refusing to feed themselves
With none to do their bidding, they have no reason to live
As the bodies are dragged away, it’s as if they’re somehow smiling
Being catered to one final time