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Sounds Like A Protest by Speaker for the Dead




         Sounds Like A Protest







(B) 
So you paid 15 bucks to get 
(A) (D) (B) 
into the show to see 
(B) 
seven bands that 
(A) (D) (B) 
nobody knows 
(B) 
you ever wonder where all that 
(A) (D) (B) 
money goes 
(B) 
well Ill tell ya, ill tell ya 
(D) (B) 
ill tell ya 

(B) 
It goes to companies bureaucracies and those 
(A) 
bands you didn't even 
(B) 
come to see 
(B) 
they all need their guarantees 
(A) 
so youll pay to play to get onstage 
(B) 
paid your dues played your tunes 
(A) 
with five white bands 
(B) 
and their all dudes 
(B) 
they all need to get their say 
(A) (B) 
so you pay to play to get onstage 

(B) 
its a classist, racist 
(A) (D) (B) 
music scene 
(B) 
tells us what were 
(A) (D) (B) 
supposed to see 
(B) 
homophobic, sexist 
(A) (D) (B) 
misogyny 
(B) (A) 
reminds us who were supposed to be 

(B->A) 

I don't do it for the love of music 
I do it for the hate of the industry 
every privatized song 
I do it because I am forced to walk a thin line 
painted red in the middle of the road 
and I can feel the walls close in on me 
one wall covered with the blood of my friends 
the other covered with sticky green dollar bills 
to me it feels like one cannot exist without the other 
and like in vintage pulp fiction movie 
tan and yellow screenings tell me I 
have to bleed myself dry for years 
give up everything for nothing 
until finally the day comes and the golden gates open for me 
and then I am the warden 
the others who struggled alongside now 
giving up everything they own 
for the nothing I have to give them 
because even as I walk through those gates 
I carry nothing with me, no weights, no emotional burdens gained 
only paid dues, some imaginary class warfare 
between those who have successfully played the game 
and those who have not 
well I have found my way out of the maze 
filled with green sticky walls 
filled with dollar signs that seem like a foreign language to me 
sometimes its hard living outside 
the labyrinth walls 
not fearing the minotaur anymore 
not having a game to play 
you need your own purpose with rules to hold us up 
after sitting on crutches for so long 
believing your legs to be broken since birth 
sometimes its hard to run at first 
but we will learn, and then 
they will have to catch us 











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