This is a song about "Bhutan slaves"

For the occasion, paper planes

Track 11.) old servants (new slaves)

Time and time again we're slaves to our crutch

Lying to yourself, all over an image

Time and time again we're slaves to our crutch

Tsa be laughing all them rubbers in your luggage

Time and time again we're slaves to our crutch

Trying to give them light and a message

We packed together like slaves, simple as nursery rhymes,

Why these broads hear my late call, start rushin' over runnin' lights

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

Many faces, trading places, diggin' graves, slaves patient,