Breaking Wheel
Shoulder to the Plow
Progress is a mythIf not for he who suffered and gave himself away At the hands of fools and lesser menFalse idols and kingsWho came to rule through circumstanceWork him like a dogWith a ball and chain and thanklessnessThe dice have been castNo turning back Eyes on the ground Where he will dieFeet nailed to the floorReason to beShoulder to the PlowFacing down the windHe'll see the way they'll never changeWatch his slow decayAs bottles drain and days go byForging his demiseThrough poison vice to sap the mindIron was a willNow passions wane and spirits dieThe weight on his chestLetras de cancionesAches in his fleshDreams of a day that never comesAx pressed to the wheelBones ground to dustShoulder to the PlowGround down into dust for a taste of their good life Left their screams, left their souls behindWork him deadLet him rot
From Letras Mania