I see a river full of little green money flowing
It's running, running out of all
Another trigger shot, my brother,
while the cameras are rolling
that goes on and on and on
They tried to kill the screens
They put the plug on the sun,
Try to chip us up on our feet
But we don't need our arms
Let the lights in the systems all blow,
Some of the pages of our history
I hear the crackle of the
Backspace, backspace, white page,
now the stories are written
And the moon now jiggles around
They're trying to kill our voice
They put the plug on the mic
gotta shout loud from the
But we don't need our ears
Put the sound in the systems,
all flows don't need none of that
Flipping up the poles, north, south,
And the air becomes perfection
Let the wind wash the old days away
So come on, come on, stand with me
let's get everybody moving on the beat
Every day we have a chance
I'm not afraid of what's coming,
a tempest wave will carry
and so you ride, ride, ride, ride,