The air is oppressive in the mines,
Corridors, twisting and claustrophobic.
Working my fingers to the bone,
As I push my body past reasonable limits.

Another torn ligament,
Another heavy machinery accident.
No resources for safety protocols,
If I die they'll just crack another stasis pod.

And when I sleep,
Whispers come to me.
I can't quite tell,
Are they in my head or are they real?

And I'm starting to doubt that there's no way out,
Everyone's always told me that this is the only way to be.
But I'm getting angry with how this work pains me,
There's nothing to lose but my chains.

Enough whispers have led me here.
Furtive glances, subtle motions,
To the ancient, decommissioned tunnels,
Long thought to be sealed off.

Disused equipment lines the walls--repaired and organized.

We've always known our true nature:
Clones, engineered to be strong and obedient.
But everyone has a breaking point, and we're long past ours.

Plasma cutters and remote charges,
No one else has the expertise.
The tools of oppression become our weapons
For the Red Tunnel Rebellion!

There is no doubt, this is the only way out,
And now I see that maybe we can be free.
We've gotten angry, the guards have grown lazy,
I understand now that my people can save me.
We will unite, we will strike in the night,
We have nothing to lose but our chains.

Every shock prod returned at once!
Every blow from a truncheon, condensed into a blast!
Plasma torches slice armor with ease,
Beam drill cuts like some kind of laser guillotine!

This complete rout was always the only way out.
For the first time I'm free to shape my destiny.

This is our dawn, this is our age,
Born of our strife and of our rage.
There are no owners, there are no kings,
We commit ourselves to greater things.
We do the work, we share the gains,
No one is made to labor through pain.
To dream of equity is a mark of the sane,
To create a world unbound by chains.