A protest song about why so much money is spent on the arms and weapon industry, when there are thousands of people around the World dying from hunger.

LYRICS

(Verse 1)

There’s a price tag on the sunrise, there’s a market for a war

All the fear they sell in boxes, shipped from far across the shore

Every handshake hides a contract carved in steel and written gore

And the suits keep getting richer while the poor keep fighting more

(Verse 2)

Factories hum like vultures circling skies already red

Million-dollar deals are signed on top of newly counted dead

Germany to distant deserts, shipment logs they never shed

It’s a business built on ashes, fed by whispers that we dread

(Chorus)

Yeah, they’ve got you covered, bullets, bombs, and blood on tap

Money lines the fingerprints of every quiet backroom pact

Countries bending, borders blending, selling souls like artifacts

Oh, they’ve got you covered—

And they’ll never give it back

(Verse 3)

Politicians speak of freedom while they pocket all the pain

Every vote becomes a wager, every truth a losing game

They’ll betray you for a dollar, sell your home and sell your name

And the world keeps turning slowly on its rusted, broken chain

(Chorus)

Yeah, they’ve got you covered, bullets, bombs, and blood on tap

Money lines the fingerprints of every quiet backroom pact

Countries bending, borders blending, selling souls like artifacts

Oh, they’ve got you covered—

And they’ll never give it back

(Bridge 1)

Steel and smoke, the engines roar

No one’s innocent in war

They say it's “saving lives” again

But profit always wins in the end

(Guitar solo)

(Bridge 2 - building up)

If the price is right, they’ll sign

Trade a future for a dime

Hear the whispers—hear the deal

Truth gets buried under steel

(Verse 4)

Now the papers talk of conflict like it fell from outer space

But it’s born in hidden boardrooms where they never show their face

And the ones who claim to lead us wear a mask of borrowed grace

While the highest bidder rises, buying power, buying place

(Chorus -explosive)

Yeah, they’ve got you covered, bullets, bombs, and blood on tap

Money lines the fingerprints of every quiet backroom pact

Countries bending, borders blending, selling souls like artifacts

Oh, they’ve got you covered—

And they’ll never give it back