Calm Like a Bomb (Live, Mexico City, Mexico, October 28, 1999) - Rage Against The Machine

Lyrics by：Zack de la Rocha

Composed by：Timothy Commerford/Zack de la Rocha/Tom Morello/Brad J. Wilk

Feel the funk blast

Feel the funk blast

Feel the funk blast

Feel the funk blast

Feel the funk blast

Yo yo yo yo yo yo

I be walkin' God like a dog

My narrative fearless

My word war returns to burn

Like Baldwin home from Paris

Like Steel from a furnace

I was born landless

This is the native son

Born of Zapata's guns

Stroll through the shanties

And the cities remains

Same bodies buried hungry

But with different last names

These vultures rob everything

Leave nothing but chains

Pick a point on the globe

Yes the pictures the same

There's a bank there's a church a myth and a hearse

A mall and a loan a child dead at birth

There's a widow pig parrot

A rebel to tame

A whitehooded judge

A syringe and a vein

And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard

What ya say what ya say what ya say what

What ya say what ya say what ya say what

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

This ain't subliminal

Feel the critical mass approach horizon

The pulse of the condemned

Sound off America's demise

The anti-myth rhythm rock shocker

Yes I spit fire

Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires

Yes back through the shanties and the cities remains

The same bodies buried hungry

But with different last names

These vultures rob everyone

Leave nothing but chains

Pick a point here at home

Yes the picture's the same

There's a field full of slaves

Some corn and some debt

There's a ditch full of bodies

The check for the rent

There's a tap the phone the silence of stone

The numb black screen

That be feelin' like home

And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard

What ya say what ya say what ya say what

What ya say what ya say what ya say what

What ya say what ya say what ya say what

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

Calm like a bomb

There's a mass without roofs

There's a prison to fill

There's a country's soul that reads post no bills

There's a strike and a line of cops outside of the mill

There's a right to obey

And there's a right to kill

There's a mass without roofs

There's a prison to fill

There's a country's soul that reads post no bills

There's a strike and a line of cops outside of the mill

There's a right to obey

And there's a right to kill