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letra de birch hill born - the fractions

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you know me weekday morning up too late
leftover bus stop dweller sick and tired of the headache
earning little, surrounded by extortion when

i was little i didn’t worry about portions on my plate
don’t talk to me mate
i’m thinkin about the
grave robbin
baseball bats in the tim bobbin
how no one said nothing
when you treated them so cold
we didn’t know what we were doing
and they never gave us nothing

there’s more wars
you don’t know
going on in the places we learnt to drink and smoke
people are treated like dirt whether they are in work or in prison
in this country
we don’t accept defeat
at least your life is worth more if you’re busy staring at your feet

our lives were formed deep inside a big brick wall
must i remind?
try not to conform
not feeling any less oppressed
birch hill born
will you follow?
follow

worker with enough burden on your shoulder
this ladders steep and your only getting older
don’t blame yourself you know these people they can’t own you no
they cannot own you

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