VIII. Build This City Video (MV)

I only wanted a tare-less field to rest my bones
Instead I found a dystopia which called me home
Lonesome, I desired others in my likeness
But gilded graven images were openly called "Your Highness."
They were bourgeoisie industrialists, formulating God in machines
They were the proletariat, apotheosizing ghosts in a kiln
They both babbled of Nimrod turning wheat farms
To concrete slabs where all gathered in the name of their king
His great-grandfather Noah
Survived the Azusa Street flood
Of those cast to four winds
After some forgot the color of blood
Today race isn't the hue
Which paints this town its slaves
Instead socioeconomics define
A man his worth. He built this city on rock 'n' roll
And others cast it onto a solid rock and soul
But we built this city on stocks and highway tolls
Against lone travelers invited to wedding banquets
And Samaritans covering the infirm under blankets
Because the price of this city they said wasn't free
But the fee for the city he says was paid by me
They called this civilization, the cradle to become our bed
A great comforter for all with heavy heads
In their Babyl, the rubble of fallen towers of babble
Now they speak angels' tongues yet no meaning in interpretation
With invented hierograms as great depression preventions
And a deus ex machina for disbelief's suspension
A great recession's the pension of all that's sown
Believing themselves as gods, an autotheistic coup d'etat
A coup de grace, remnants, or diasporas
My God, who will lead the captives free?