Hands Held High (Live at Milton Keynes)

Turn my mic up louder,
I got to say something
Lightweights steppin' aside
when we come in

Feel it in your chest,
the syllables get pumping
People on the street then panic
and start running

Words on loose leaf sheet,
complete coming
I jump in my mind,
I summon the rhyme I'm dumping

Healing the blind,
I promise to let the sun in
Sick of the dark ways
we march to the drumming

Jump when they tell us
that they wanna see jumping
Fuck that, I wanna see some fists pumping
List something,
take back what's yours

Say something
that you know they might attack you for
'Cause I'm sick of being treated
like I had before

Like it's stupid
standing for what I'm standing for
Like this war's really
just a different brand of war

Like it doesn't cater to rich
and abandon poor
Like they understand you,
in the back of their jet

When you can't put gas in your tank,
these fuckers
Are laughing their way to the bank,
and cashing their check

Asking you to have the passion
and have some respect
For a leader so nervous
in an obvious way

Stuttering and mumbling
for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world
watching at the end of the day
In the living room,
laughing like, "What did he say?"