Breaking Wheel - Shoulder To The Plow lyrics

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<b>Shoulder To The Plow</b> by <i>Breaking Wheel</i><br />Progress is a myth

If not for he who suffered and gave himself away

At the hands of fools and lesser men

False idols and kings

Who came to rule through circumstance

Work him like a dog

With a ball and chain and thanklessness

The dice have been cast

No turning back

Eyes on the ground

Where he will die

Feet nailed to the floor

Reason to be

Shoulder to the Plow

Facing down the wind

He'll see the way they'll never change

Watch his slow decay

As bottles drain and days go by

Forging his demise

Through poison vice to sap the mind

Iron was a will

Now passions wane and spirits die

The weight on his chest

Aches in his flesh

Dreams of a day that never comes

Ax pressed to the wheel

Bones ground to dust

Shoulder to the Plow

Ground down into dust for a taste of their good life

Left their screams, left their souls behind

Work him dead

Let him rot