My body is shackled
Of ankles, of wrists,
Of arms, of fists
For that’s how Resistance likes it be
My mind is tackled
Of values, of will,
Of toughness, of thrill
For that’s how Resistance likes it be
But Resistance ain’t got nothing on me
I wriggle and struggle to escape the chains
Yet it only makes them tighter
The effort grinds me to the ground
To mark the grave of a fighter
I hear a dying voice within me
As he whips insults:
Who you are today is not the end result
And so the weight begins to feel lighter and lighter
The view I see begins to seem wider and wider
The voice grows stronger, saying more and more
Telling me things, things he will ignore
I am far from hero, I am far from man
But if I cannot do it,
no one can
Resistance is oblivious, Resistance cannot see
Resistance ain’t got nothing on me
