Rage Against The Machine-Ashes In The Fall

Why cant more political bands write shit like this

A mass of hands press on the market window
Ghosts of progress dressed in slow death
Feeding on hunger and glaring through the promise
Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle

A mass of nameless at the oasis
That hides the graves beneath the master's hill
Are buried for drinking the rivers water while
Shackled to the line at the empty well

This is the new sound, just like the old sound
Just like the noose wound, over the new ground

"Take hope here, war is elsewhere
You were chosen, this is Gods land
Soon we'll be free of blot and mixture
Seeds planted by our Forefathers hand"

A mass of promises begin to rupture
Like the pockets f the new world kings
Like swollen stomachs In Appalachia
Like the priest that fucked you As he whispered holy things

A mass of tears have transform the stones now
Sharpened on suffering and woven into the slings
Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress
Taking today what tomorrow never brings

This is the new sound, just like the old sound
Just like the noose wound, over new ground

Ain't the new sound just like the old sound
Look at the noose now over the burning ground

Ain't it funny how the factory doors close
Round the time that the school doors close
Round the time that the doors of the jail cells
Open up to greet you like the reaper

Ain't its funny how the factory doors close
Round the time that the school doors close
Round the time that a hundred thousand jail cells
Open up to greet you like the reaper

This is the new sound, just like the old sound
Just like the noose wound, over the new ground