The Welfare's Paths

Seventy percent of the tarmac is gone

Just a memory of where we belong

I'm dodging the craters, the dust, and the rust

In a network of highways crumbled to dust

I walked to the clinic to heal up my head

But the shelves are all empty, the spirit is dead

No pills in the cabinet, no doctor in sight

Just a flickering bulb in the middle of the night

And down in the village where the money runs low

There's a palace of marble starting to grow

Built by the men with the guns and the black masks

While the government pretends not to look at the tasks

They build in the daylight, they don't hide their face

A mansion of gold in a poverty place

But don't ask for pavement, don't ask for a drain

They forbid the water, they only bring pain

Oh, tell me where do these roads really go?

Down The Welfare's paths, don't you know?

Where they pick the winners, they choose who can run

They decide the election before it's begun

Yeah, they block up the sewers and dry up the well

Turning our heaven into their private hell

It's a long, broken road... and we know it too well

They walk into stores and they take what they need

No payment, no guilt, just a hunger to feed

They tax every heartbeat, they tax every breath

Extorting the town 'til there's nothing but death

And the people are tired, yeah, the people are sick

Of the fear in the air that is hanging so thick

They take out a stray dog just for the thrill

They silence the cat, then they go for the kill

Now the scholarships vanished, the students are broke

While the man on the telly turns truth to a joke

He says,"Look at the schools and the hospitals grand!

But it's just grey concrete on a desolate land

It's cold dark shell, unfinished and cold

Lies on the screen while the future is sold

Oh, tell me where do these roads really go?

Down The Welfare's paths, don't you know?

Where they pick the winners, they choose who can run

They decide the election before it's begun

Yeah, they block up the sewers and dry up the well

Turning our heaven into their private hell

It's a long, broken road... and we know it too well

Oh, tell me where do these roads really go?

Down The Welfare's paths, don't you know?

Where they pick the winners, they choose who can run

They decide the election before it's begun

Yeah, they block up the sewers and dry up the well

Turning our heaven into their private hell

It's a long, broken road... and we know it too well

We're fed up with the shadows

We're fed up with the lies

Just unfinished walls under Mexican skies

The paths

The paths... are broken