New Homes For Idle Hands

Suburbs tremble again
Fearing the have-nots at the window, collecting their fair share
Guns and alarms aren’t enough
They demand justice
And every criminal locked away
As well as any kid who might do something wrong
There’s a jail out of town
With fences so high we won’t think about who’s inside
Neighbours are disappearing behind the bars
Kids are doing time for petty crimes
It don’t matter who they are
It don’t matter that they’re alive
A warehouse for victims of circumstance
Cops are rounding up slaves
Workers that can’t complain or come late
A workforce behind bars
They’ll make gadgets, circuit boards or fix cars
It don’t matter who they are
It don’t matter that they’re alive
Crime pays, ask the bankers floating bonds
To build cages for the inner-city's «idle-hands"instead of schools
Factories with fences meet the prisons without walls
(And we shall have your skulls)
They’ll kick you to the ground
You’ll find yourself employed again. On the inside