Lyrics
I(Verse 1)
Ohhh,I've got a story to tell ya, a nightmare
Before our very own eyes!
[Sound of a heavy tavern door opening, then closing with a thud]
In the most evil tavern, owned by demons
Called the Drunk Cadrie,
It's frantic!It's urgent! A blindfold's on your eyes, [fast speech] hands zip tied! Ankles shackled!
But you peek and see the truth that their whole system terrifies.
You read the scrawl upon that glowing bar room napkin, you see the red splatter on the bar stools, the numbers clear and cruel,
The top five percent l, the Drunk Cadrie, drink fifty beers and treat the rest of us as fuel.
We the ninety-five percent below, with aching back and knee,
Hold up their gilded tabletop for just a taste,
A fraction of a droplet just to survive!
[Sound of a single, desperate sip, then a cough]
(Verse 2)
The Drunk Cadrie are bloated, a monstrous, greedy crew.
They brewed the rules to drain the keg and leave no drop for you.
They own the big tech,they own the AI that targets a refugee camp, and they will argue an entitlement to commit any genocide.
Then sell us hope in citizenship where the greatest thing is at least we aren't
The Drunk Cadrie's bombing range,
Like the poor helpless crying starving babies in Gaza!!
[Sound of a cash register cha-ching]
Then suddenly your vision's gone, you're bound and locked away.
[Sound of a closet door handle jiggling violently]
A threat to the Drunk Cadrie at the end of the damn day.
A threat to the Drunk Cadrie at the end of the damn day! [Angrily] if you demons listening fuck you with every bullet in our guns and every atom of our intelligence!
[Sound of duct tape being ripped from skin]
You scream out, "Help, I'm trapped in here!" The lively jovial noise is gone.
No partying anymore just cold and silent janitor's closer for us.
[Eerie, empty silence for 3 seconds]
Then a faint voice from the darkness,"How long have you been here too?"
There is hope! There is hope!
We hear each other, in the dark we start to see...
The first truth of this grim economy,
We see Drunk Cadrie dancing on the bodies of the millions of deceased.
(Chorus)
Blood on the barstools, [sound of a glass smashing] Blood on the Barstools [sound of a grenade]
The Five Percent
The Drunk Cadrie hoard the harvest, while the Ninety-Five bleed thin.
They built this tavern on our bones, on every tear we've cried! The beer might even be made out of our tears! The beer might even be made out of our tears!
They gulp and vanish their fifty kegs of beers and the Ninety-Five have suffered and died.
Oh, the jukebox sings their anthems, a fabricated tune! Everything you see and hear out there are likely pet parrot demons of the Drunk Cadrie!
[Sound of a distorted, cheerful tavern jukebox melody]
(Verse 3)
They call their theft "investment," call our labor a "free hand,"
While they steal the fruits of every field across this stolen land.
[Sound of a shovel digging into earth]
They poison our well water, then sell it back in sacks, what foreign nation is there to fear if they profit just to put cancer in our kitchen faucet.
Then blame us for the sickness,and demand their taxes back.
[Sound of a sickly, wracking cough]
The sixth truth is their final threat to keep us all in line.
They'll burn this whole damn tavern down, kill yours and kill mine.
[Sound of a match striking]
But the truth is POWER, we are the 95!
But the truth is power, we are the 95!
The lock we made, the thirst we share, we all know the Drunk Cadrie jukebox
(Bridge)
I see the Cadrie's ledger, the interest that they charge,
On every life they've stunted,every dream they've kept in cages.
[Sound of pages turning, then gold coins clinking]
I feel the tavern shudder with the weight of their new hoard,
A mountain of unsipped beer that we have labored toward.
They toast to"innovation" on a throne of our despair.
(Chorus)
Blood on the barstools, [
