Inked in Blood

Visions in My Head

Text:
Verse 1
Twenty bucks for a cut, I pay and I’m gone,
But in parliament the blow-dry goes on.
Tax-paid powder, a smile on demand,
While justice slips right out of hand.

Pre-Chorus
They pose in the mirror, we count every cent,
That’s not glamour, it’s a crack in the cement.

Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, not where it burns,
We pay for the show, but get nothing in return.
Money flows elsewhere, not where it’s real,
Styling on the bill while the people can’t heal.

(solo)

Verse 2
Scissors in the barbershop, click-clack cheap,
But up on the hill, the gold runs deep.
Make-up on flights, we’re saving on meals,
They powder their foreheads, we’re chained to the wheels.

Pre-Chorus
They pose in the mirror, we count every cent,
That’s not glamour, it’s a crack in the cement.

Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, not where it burns,
We pay for the show, but get nothing in return.
Money flows elsewhere, not where it’s real,
Styling on the bill while the people can’t heal.

(solo)

Bridge
The scissors cut deeper than hair on the floor,
Each strand is a symbol of who they ignore.
They talk of duty, of carrying the weight,
But behind the make-up, there’s nothing but state.

Final Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, we see it so bright,
The spotlight is shining, but nothing is right.
Money flows elsewhere, we’re stuck in the rain,
They pose for the cameras, we’re left with the pain.

Money Flows Elsewhere

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