Withered phantoms on the side of the road
Nobody's dying from getting too old
Old men in suits choosing how we'll live our lives
While getting wealthy off their tooth rotting lies
Poets and dreamers staying flat broke
That's the way they made it cause this ain't our home
I'm sorry to say it but this is the truth
This is class not culture, they don't care about you
Painting a portrait of you
Right on the city's skylight
People will look up at you
Your beauty puts tears in their eyes
Broken bones and bloodshot eyes
We're the ones that they love to despise
They come at me with their hate-filled words
Repeating the same shit I've already heard
I don't know how much more of this I can take
Locked in a class war only they want to wage
The TV spews fear like smog in the sky
We're slack-jawed as our parents believe in the lie
Painting a portrait of you
Right on the city's skylight
People will look up at you
Your beauty puts tears in their eyes
Painting a portrait of you
Right on the city's skylight
People will look up at you
Your beauty puts tears in their eyes
(yeah)
Painting a portrait of you
Right on the city's skylight
People will look up at you
Your beauty puts tears in their eyes