Gig's Up

Unraveled in the rat race

Spilling all your sand

Through a hole in your soul that nobody knows

Is a hole in the whole damn plan

The whistles of the winners

Sour into moans

In a snap a collapse has ‘em trapped in the back

Of a wreck that is all their own

That gig’s not going to go down anymore

There’s a glitch in the matrix

There’s a crack in the sky

It’s a glimpse of the big game

And it’s showing what’s going on all the time

While we’re blind in our minds

So it all looks fine

Fingers point at fingers

Points pretend to point

At the source of the mess that’s blessed with its kiss

The men with the most gold coins

Bitter in the glitter

Of their mighty prize

They hide in the lie that they’re right and we’re fine

With the way they rob our lives

That gig’s not going to go down anymore

There’s a glitch in the matrix

There’s a crack in the sky

It’s a glimpse of the big game

And it’s showing what’s going on all the time

While we’re blind in our minds

So it all looks fine

We’ll make a revolution

But not with blood and guns

But some fun with the ones who are coming undone

From the grip of the goons with the guns

We’ll do some crazy dancing

We’ll sing some soulful songs

That fly to the height of a sky of a life

That burns through a world gone wrong

That gig’s not going to go down anymore

There’s a glitch in the matrix

There’s a crack in the sky

It’s a glimpse of the big game

And it’s showing what’s going on all the time

While we’re blind in our minds

So it all looks fine

But it’s all a lie

But it all looks fine

But it robs our lives

But it all looks fine

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