I came to the booth at sunrise with a paper and a name
The clerk behind the window had a smile that worked the same
He said, "To enter chapter one, the cost is what you owe.
To enter chapter two, the cost is what you know.
To enter chapter three, the cost is who you know.
And chapter four is free, but only if you show."

Every step is a meter,
Every meter is a fee,
Every fee is a smaller
Kind of slavery.

The tollbooth of justice, where the price is on the door
The tollbooth of justice, where the rich come back for more
Drop a coin, drop a coin, before the gate will lift
The tollbooth of justice—the cost is always gift

I asked the man a quiet question: "What is the fee for truth?"
He laughed and said, "The truth is free, but proof is in the booth."
I said, "The proof is here, I brought it, signed and sealed and clear."
He said, "The proof is fine, but processing costs are dear."
I said, "I'll pay in patience, I'll pay in time and breath."
He said, "Patience is a currency, but it's a kind of death."

The system does not ask for money
As much as it asks for time.
It charges you in years
For the privilege of a single line.

I will pay in chalk, I will pay in honest hours
I will pay in letters written underneath the towers
I will pay in songs, I will pay in lines of grace
The tollbooth counts my coins, but never sees my face

The tollbooth of justice, where the price is on the door
The tollbooth of justice, where the rich come back for more
Drop a coin, drop a coin, before the gate will lift
The tollbooth of justice—the cost is always gift