Linkin Park

Hands Held High

Linkin Park

Road to Revolution: Live at Milton Keynes


Turn my mic up louder, I got to say something
Lightweights step it aside when we come in
Feel it in your chest, the syllables get pumping
People on the street, they panic and start running

Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming
I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme I'm dumping
Healing the blind, I promise to let the sun in
Sick of the dark ways we march to the drumming

Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping
Fuck that, I wanna see some fists pumping
Risk something, take back what's yours
Say something that you know they might attack you for

'Cause I'm sick of being treated like I have before
Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for
Like this war's really just a different brand of war
Like it doesn't cater to rich and abandon poor

Like they understand you in the back of the jet
When you can't put gas in your tank
And these fuckers are laughing their way to the bank
Cashing the check
Asking you to have compassion and have some respect

For a leader so nervous in an obvious way
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watching, at the end of the day
In the living room laughing like, "What did he say?"

Amen, Amen
Amen, Amen
Amen

In my living room watching but I am not laughing
'Cause when it gets tense, I know what might happen
The world is cold, the bold men take action
Have to react or get blown into fractions

Ten years old, it's something to see
Another kid my age drugged under a Jeep
Taken and bound and found later under a tree
I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me

Do you see the soldiers that are out, today?
They brush the dust from bulletproof vests away
It's ironic, at times like this you'd pray
But a bomb blew the mosque up, yesterday

There's bombs on the buses, bikes, roads
Inside your market, your shops, your clothes
My dad, he's got a lot of fear, I know
But enough pride inside not to let that show

My brother had a book he would hold with pride
A little red cover with a broken spine on the back
He hand-wrote a quote, inside
"When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die"

Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
The rest of the world watching, at the end of the day
Both scared and angry, like "What did he say?"

Amen, Amen
Amen, Amen
Amen

With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you
With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

Compositores: Bradford Philip Delson, Michael Kenji Shinoda, Joseph Hahn, Robert G Bourdon (Bourdon Robert), Chester Charles Bennington, David Paul Farrell
ECAD: Obra #3373127 Fonograma #13380785

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