New homes for idle hands
Propagandhi Lyrics
New homes for idle hands Lyrics
New homes for idle hands by Propagandhi
A warehouse for victims of circumstance. Cops are rounding up slaves; workers that can't complain or come late. A workforce behind bars. They'll make gadgets, circuit boards or fix cars. It don't matter who they are. It don't matter that they're alive. Crime pays, ask the bankers floating bonds to build cages for the inner-city's "idle-hands? instead of schools. Factories with fences meet the prisons without walls. We shall have your skulls. They'll kick you to the ground. You'll find yourself employed again. On the inside.
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