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FIGHT THE POWER

High-rise towers, closed doors,
we’ve got the problems, you’ve got the excuses.
You use complex jargon so we won't understand,
but when the bill comes due, we’re the ones who pay and suffer.

You talk about growth; I’m looking at the rent—
the paycheck runs out before the twentieth; it’s a foregone conclusion.
Groceries cost double, gas prices climb,
and to get medical care, you have to hope you stay healthy—and don't get sick.

Fixed-term contracts, shifts running late,
thirty years of work, yet you’re still counting milestones.
An old man queues up for his medicine,
while the bosses toast on a brightly lit terrace.

You say: "Make sacrifices, these are tough times,"
but sacrifice always wears the face of ordinary people.
We tighten our belts; you strike deals,
we lose sleep; you crunch new numbers.

"Fight the power, raise your voice,
those who pay the price shouldn't be left on the cross.
Fight the power, we aren't numbers,
we aren't votes, we aren't just consumers.
You make the rules, locked away in your towers,
we live the problems every day—every damn bit of it.
Fight the power, until you finally understand:
without the people, you are nothing."

You draw borders on a map,
then send young men off to fight at dawn.
A son leaves, a mother stays behind;
you call it "strategy"—on the street, it’s a loss.

You speak of peace in front of the cameras,
then sell weapons behind armored doors.
War has a cost, but you don't pay it:
it’s paid by those who lose their homes, their futures, fathers, sons, and more.

And while you argue on TV about who’s right,
someone is looking for work by the light of their phone.
A roof over your head costs too much, a mortgage is a mountain,
the pension falls short, and the utility bill shows no mercy. Schools are crumbling, hospitals are full,
Yet you find billions when more land is needed.
For the people: "There’s no money, you have to wait,"
For certain circles: the signature comes without a question asked.

"Fight the power, raise your voice,
Those who pay the price shouldn't be left on the cross.
Fight the power, we aren't numbers,
We aren't votes, we aren't just consumers.
You make the rules, locked away in your halls of power,
We live the problems every day—every damn struggle.
Fight the power, until you finally understand:
Without the people, you are nothing."

I don't want a war; I want to live in peace.
I don't want promises; I want what is rightfully ours.
A home, a job, healthcare when it's needed,
A future for our children, not fear running through our veins.

We aren't poor because wealth is lacking;
We are poor when it is distributed without justice.
And if the voice of the people grows too loud,
You can't shut it out with a wall or a locked door.

You have mansions, cars, and guards at the door;
We have a life that costs us dearly every month.
You have words, conferences, and television;
We have receipts, debts, and a harsh reality.

You tell us to "have faith," but our faith is gone,
Because every promise arrives already expired.
We don't need another slogan or another show;
We need you to look into the eyes of those who can't go on.

Power isn't eternal—remember that well;
No throne stays standing if the people don't support it.
History changes course when consciousness shifts,
And the voice of millions weighs more than any court ruling.

"Fight the power, raise your voice,
Those who pay the price shouldn't be left on the cross.
Fight the power, we aren't numbers,
We aren't votes, we aren't just consumers.
You make the rules, locked away in your halls of power,
We live the problems every day—every damn struggle." Fight the power, this voice won't be silenced:
when the people wake up, no seat of power stands firm.

No hate. No fear. Only truth.
Phony politicians—at least spare the children.
War crimes and crimes against humanity
will be punished when you no longer have immunity...
before God—that’s not for me to decide...