Now is the time when the judgment comes, when the critics decide where to point the thumbs.
Here's the monetary giant, "Fee fi fo fum, let's keep the people all deaf and dumb."
The Bororo say, "To keep it got to give it away." While the seven dwarves shoot it out in east LA
Over some street corner turf down in the barrio that's owned by desperados del conglomerado.
Hey, preacher, are you ready for the gift of sight? Hey, fighter, wanna pay to see the audience fight?
Hey, bomber, wanna see a flash light up the night? So you can say, "Whoever's left must have been right"
Well here's your bottle of wine. Here's your old toy drum, here's your broken guitar.
Who's gonna be the one to reveal the tiny piece that's really true,
The piece the rest of us will be hanging on to?
Who's gonna do what they say? Spit it out. What they tell you to say? Spit it out.
Got a little slice of heaven, a heaping serving of hell.
In the mirror in the spirit hotel
 
The animals start talking as you open the door. They're telling you why they had to be so quiet before.
Why silence is golden. Why less is more. Why, here's the media pimp looking for a whore.
Who can push? Who can shove? Do you wanna be below or above?
Can you make love, fighter, without taking off your gloves?
Forget the joy and the pain. Think about your image, your pride.
Any time you're working it you're working with the flip side.
Drink to get clever. Smoke to get smart. Shovel some dirt in your veins to cover your broken heart,
So you can fall down good. Make your mistakes just right.
Watch your shadow getting bigger as you're leaving the light.
Yeah, the power can be yours if you do it our way.
We'll take you from Christ to anti-Christ and back in a day.
Who's gonna do what we say? Spit it out. What we tell you to say? Spit it out
You got limited time. Got a story to tell.
To the mirror in the spirit hotel
 
So who's gonna be hard? Who's gonna be tough,
Now that the choreographed stuff's rubbing up against the raw stuff?
Are you collecting cans or Gauguin's? Lady Mac, understand you got some blood on your hands.
Well, this is your last deposit, last trip to the bank.
So is it the speed of your motor? Is it the size of your tank?
Is it the car you're in, or the road you're on? Who's gonna validate your parking when the palace is gone?
This is the big siesta. The end of the era of the flea on the belly of rin tin tierra.
The race she completo. Libido finito. Slap another mosquito on the butt of mamacita.
Who's ready to lose the shirt and the shoes? Who's gonna be the last fool chained to the ooze?
Who's gonna do what they say? Spit it out. What they tell you to say? Spit it out.
Time to learn how to fly 'cause you already fell
Into the mirror in the spirit hotel
 
Who's gonna shed their skin? Drop their disguise? Look for themself in somebody's eyes?
Who's gonna walk? Crawl? Get stuck in' the sand? Take the time to take hold of somebody's hand?
Help somebody be strong so they can help you be strong? Grab hold of the present before the future is gone?
Take a bath in the pond, have a laugh in the rain? Maybe the joy is just a dance with the pain.
Who's gonna do what they say?