Fan The Flames
Sheer Mag
That's the man you gotta give it to
We pay him our rent to have a hole in our roof
And when our neighbors burned
It was only because of telephone cords
Trash on sidewalks, broken windowpanes
The pipes are leaking
They ain't gonna fix it till it's too far gone
They're gonna wash us away
We've got to say
You've got to fan the flames
You've got to stand up and break the chains
Make a plan and demand what the damage pays
Fan the flames
In the dark and the bitter cold
They're freezing us out, it's as good as gold
Between the vacant homes
Are fancy doorbells wrapped with ribbon and bow
Getting hard to stay in tune
The boys are getting me down, I'll be staying in my room
But when the yuppies push us out
The boys are picking me up and sticking around
That's the man you gotta give it to
Time and time again he plays us for a fool
And when our neighbors burned
The realtors shook hands with their backs turned
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