[Intro]
Three black cars at the factory gate
One red banner folded in a case
Two men smiling for a photograph
Everyone offering a path

[Verse 1]
One says, “Put our symbol high
We have lawyers, funds and ties”
One says, “Give us names and lists
We can turn your pain to votes”
One says, “Every cop’s the same
Every shop behind them shares the blame”
Tom feels the easy answer pull
A match already in his hand

[Pre-Chorus]
Eli takes the match away
Nadia blocks the factory gate
Jonah says, “We know this trade
A different badge, the same command”

[Chorus]
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
No new master at the gate
No party buying what we built
No stranger carrying our guilt
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
We will not trade one chain for eight
Our hands are empty, still our own
We do not need another throne

[Verse 2]
The visitors call them naïve
“Without a leader, you will leave”
Mara points toward the floor
Where meals are counted by the door
“No one owns the clinic shifts
No one signs the food as gifts
No one gets a larger share
For talking loudest in a chair”

[Pre-Chorus]
The cameras wait outside for rage
A broken shop, a burning page
The neighborhood gives them neither one
The smiling men receive no stage

[Chorus]
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
No new master at the gate
No party buying what we built
No stranger carrying our guilt
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
We will not trade one chain for eight
Our hands are empty, still our own
We do not need another throne

[Instrumental Break]
Grinding bass and clipped guitar chords leave space for stomping feet

[Bridge]
Tom admits before the room
“I wanted someone I could blame
Someone close enough to strike
So I would not feel small again”
The old woman answers from the wall,
“Anger is a tool, not food
Use it to remove the lock
Do not feed it someone’s blood”

[Breakdown]
No king
No savior
No uniformed truth

No hate
On credit
No borrowed enemy

[Build-up]
The cars reverse
The banners close
The gate stays shut
The kitchen grows

[Final Chorus]
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
No new master at the gate
No leader’s face above the bread
No easy lie about the dead
No gods, no crowns, no borrowed hate
We choose the harder road to take
Our hands are empty, still our own
Together is not another throne

[Outro]
The match lies wet beside the drain
The factory stove burns cooking flame
Outside, the campaign cars depart
Inside, the night shift starts