Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ghost in the Broadcast
Ghost in the Broadcast
Mixed Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lawrence Rocha
Lawrence Rocha
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lawrence Rocha
Lawrence Rocha
Producer

Lyrics

Drug, sales, passer byes
These streets will never die
Prescribed, never ending lies
The broken get left behind
Drug sales, pass us by
These streets will never die
Prescribed, never ending lies
The broken get left behind
Now the sound
doubles every three
Decibels, junkies or fiends
Feed me a lie from hell
I know a place to sell it
In my city, my dreams
Sleep alone on these streets
They were left
out on the streets
Alone, to fight their disease
No, it ain't quite human
While they eat our poisons
No, it ain't quite human
Money serves the few who own it
No, it ain't quite human
No, it ain't quite human
It ain't quite..
Honey, your life is theirs
What did you think would happen?
When the vultures arrived
Fed you their lies
What did you think would happen?
Did your muse
get sick to her core?
Clue you in like never before
What did you think would happen?
What did you think would happen?
You were left out on the streets
Alone to fight your disease
But we ignore your human
Your only fucking human
Yes, we keep you alive
Feed you our lies
Enjoy our poisons
No, we ain't quite human
Money serves the few who own it
No, we ain't quite human
No, we ain't quite..
We ain't quite..
No, we ain't quite..
No, we ain't quite..
We ain't quite..
No, we ain't quite..
No, we ain't quite human..
Written by: Lawrence Rocha
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