Wrecking Ball
by Born Low· from The Hunger Within
There's no miss from the hammer swinging down.
Send a shiver through your spine.
A witch hunt for the thrill seekers.
I won't go in peace, when it's not my time.
Part of the bastard breed.
Dirty hands reaching for the feed.
Rise with the sun, race with the clock, and life corrodes before your eyes.
And with my back against the wall, my mind feels like a wrecking ball.
We take what isn't ours.
But only steal what we deserve.
You call it immoral.
It's a man left with his last nerve.
Your life spent slipping away.
Your bones bent in the grip of it all.
And with my back against the wall, my mind feels like a wrecking ball.