LYRIC

A simple turn of phrase
A million mouths, a million days
All I need is a space upon your floor
 
Sing out for change
And feed all the news to the poor
We fall down the same
But when you're done, pick me up off the floor
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
 
I hear them turning the lock and thread
They're creeping into your home
Just to tell you where to stand
They're watching
 
Sing out for change
And feed all the news to the poor
We fall down the same
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
And when you're done, pick me up off the floor
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
 
So can you feel it? We're moving it over the air
We are revolting, we are revolting
And all the little pieces falling are counting the price of your head
 
Sing out for change
And feed all the news to the poor
We fall down the same
When you're done, pick me up off the
Sing out for change
And feed all the news to the poor
We fall down the same
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
And when you're done, pick me up off the floor
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
When you're done, pick me up off the floor
 

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