[Intro – spoken over guitar]
In a world where truth is hidden,
and knowledge is a guarded prize…
I traded the mornings, the sun on my neck,
for the slow, steady drip of a Friday check.

[Verse 1 – A → B]
I didn’t find it in a vault or a lucky draw,
I didn’t inherit the grace of the law.
Every dollar’s a sunrise I’ll never see twice,
every hundred’s a weekend—that’s the market price.

There’s a book that holds the answers
to the questions in our eyes,
a book that speaks of health and healing,
of herbs and foods that make us rise.
It tells us how to live in harmony
with nature’s endless store—
while I’m clocked in, locked in,
counting years on a factory floor.

[Pre-Chorus – blend]
It’s not just a balance, or a figure in ink,
it’s the years that I spent on the edge of the brink.
They sell us guides to enlightenment,
to the secrets of our domain…
but who refunds the hours
I paid into their game?

[Chorus – A hook over B hook]
And they call it a "loss" like it’s just a mistake,
like a glass you can sweep or a rule you can break—
Oh, it’s a book that explains everything,
from the cosmos to the smallest grain—
But they don’t see the forty, the frost, and the grime,
they’re not counting the money—they’re counting my time!
It’s a tax on the living, a debt to the bone,
when they take what I built, they’re taking my home…
in the years that are gone.

[Verse 2 – B → A]
It reveals the truth about our history
and the powers that be,
it shows us how to break their chains
and find our liberty.
It teaches us about the spirit
and the power of our minds,
it shows us how to connect with others
and leave our egos behind.

I watched my old man, his hands turned to stone,
building a kingdom he never could own.
They talk about "looting" like it’s numbers and gear,
but they didn’t see him through the thirtieth year.
Turning forty years’ labor to one moment’s grief—
while they publish our freedom
in a thousand-page belief.

[Bridge – tension rising]
You can re-earn the paper, you can re-build the fence,
but you can’t buy back the years spent in defense
of a future that vanished, a ghost in the light,
while those with a head start sleep soundly at night.
It shows us how to break their chains,
how to live in balance with the land…
but who rewinds a lifetime
slipping through your hands?

[High Chorus – tight mix]
Oh, it’s a book that explains everything,
from the stars above to the earth below—
but they don’t see the forty, the frost, and the grime,
they’re not counting the money, they’re counting my time!
It’s the guide to enlightenment we’ve been longing to know,
while I pay in one million hours
for a future I won’t own.

It’s a tax on the living, a debt to the bone,
when they take what we built, they’re taking our home.
From the past that’s been
to the future yet to be—
they read about freedom,
we pay the fee.

[Outro – stripped back]
One million hours…
in a world that won’t wait.
Brick by brick…
we’re reading how to break the chains
as we reinforce the gate.

So here’s to the book that explains everything—
may its wisdom light the way…
but the time that they taxed,
the years that are gone,
no page can ever repay.

[Fade]
Too late.
(The Time Tax…)
Too late.