Remember the great economic decline
Of 10/24/1929
That crash on Black Thursday is echoed in time
Different day, same old crime
Different day, same old crime

High in their towers they look down on me
But I am a neo-revolutionary
We are the broken American Dream
But to them, we're the end to a means
But to them, we're the end to a means

So lay down your burdens and turn to the sky
Grit your teeth, open your eyes
Behold a new era and let out a cry
We are the 99

They ride four green horses made of your dollar bills
From Lower Manhattan to Beverly Hills
Their greedy filth-fingers will squeeze us until
Their corporate consumption kills
Their corporate consumption kills

So lay down your burdens and turn to the sky
Grit your teeth, open your eyes
Behold a new era and let out a cry
We are the 99