Lyrics

Bones beneath the shovel's blade
That's what the radio said
Years ago a payoff made
Built a mall on top of the dead

Eighty thousand underground
Eighty thousand not a sound
Eighty thousand nameless souls
Brothers, sisters of us all

A mother in her cotton dress
A little baby taken in distress
A hobo with a kindly face
There was a daughter of a southern slave

Bulging wallets, empty hearts
The walking dead push shopping carts
What price human dignity?