Texty: Flotsam And Jetsam. When The Storm Comes Down. Greed.

Greed can't wash your filthy hands
Now you know Just where you really stand
Competition. Man against man
Vicious players, Game of life has no plan.

Candiate for office, You vote for me,
I'm young, smart, smooth-talkin', no one can bullshit me
Promises promises Just another vote.
High paid thief in office, sharpened lies cut your throat

What do you really want What will you pay
To stab another back, To get your way
And grease the painted palms, all gagged and bound

You try to rip me off I'll bring you down

Kill Or be killed, that's what we're all taught
Money, drugs, religion, they've all got their plots
To make it to the big time, then pay off the cops
It's greed that motivates them and only death will make them stop

Guilt tool of the trade, you crushed someone's mind
To get your own way, you were my friend
You've cut the bloodline that never ends