About the song
Grimy boom-bap about the seat at the table, and what it costs to sit in it.
About these notes
AI-assisted song notes, based on the sources shown here. Not yet human-reviewed.
Words from the artist’s archive
WHO GETS THE CHAIR lyrics
Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.
Read the lyric sheet
Intro
Top floor got heat. Downstairs got mold. Same block. Different cold.
Verse 1
Prep-school tie, clean soles, town car at eight. Doorman knew his last name before he knew the gate. Lunch came hot, books stacked, tuition got wired. No graveyard shift, so the kid stayed inspired. Marx in the backpack, Che on the page. Teacher said question every lock, every cage. He could miss rent twice and never miss sleep. That kind of safety lets a question cut deep. From the tall glass window he could see the roofs, blue lights bounce off the wet black boots. Saw Miss June clean floors when the rich kids left. Saw her count bus fare with a pain in her chest. He learned big words in a room with brass doors. Learned who got five floors, who was mopping all four. Funny what comfort can hand to a kid: time to hate the machine that bought time for him.
Chorus
Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first? Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first?
Verse 2
Now he down on Lenox where the rent jumps quick, talking revolution by the chicken spot bricks. Cook got burns on both arms, still splitting the light. Cash in a coffee can, landlord due Friday night. Across from the bodega, Mr. Cruz sweeps glass, thirty years in the store, two loans on his back. Bought milk before dawn, paid the clerk before sales. One bad month and that whole little engine can fail. Barbershop arguing wages, taxes, who got robbed. One man owns the chair, one man just owns the job. Kid got the language, the lawyer, the room, friends with clean collars who can make plans bloom. Now the soft-hand boy got a bullhorn grip, quoting books on the curb while the squad cars creep. Folks start walking behind what the rich kid said. Privilege bought the match. The block brought the red.
Chorus 2
Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first? Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first?
Verse 3
Gate came off hinges. Whole crowd came through. Boss name scraped off. Fresh paint. New crew. Brownstone turned clinic, school opened late. Old rent books smoking in a trash-can grate. First week felt holy. Free bread on the steps. Old men cried watching kids leave the sweat. Then the truck needed paper to carry that bread. Paper needed a stamp. Stamp needed a head. Head needed a card with the right little seal. No card, no flour. That's when hunger got real. Corner store closed when the shelves got thin. Five men in an office chose what rolled in. Landlord lost one key. Good. Let that key die. But five fresh keys hung where the old one used to lie. New flag on the wall. Same guard downstairs. Everybody broke the throne. Somebody kept the chair.
Chorus
Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first? Who gets the chair? Who gets the key? Paint the door red. Who still eats first?
Outro
Who gets the chair?
Inside the recording
Top floor got heat. Downstairs got mold.
Who gets the chair? Who gets the key?
Who gets the chair?
Excerpts from artist-supplied lyric files matched by title. Lyric sheets may differ from the released performance.