We'll call you when your six years old, and drag you to the factory. To train your brain for eighteen years with promise of security. But then you're free and for forty years you waste to chase the dollar sign. So you may die in Florida at the pleasant age of sixty nine.
The water's getting hard to drink, we've mangled up the countryside. The air will choke you when you breathe, we're all commiting sucide. But it's alright, it's progress folks, keep pushin' till your body rots. Will strip the earth of all it's green, and then divide her into condos and parking lots.
Your free to speak your mind my friend, as long as you agree with me. Don't criticize the fatherland
or those who shape your destiny. Cause if you do, you'll lose your job, your mind, and all the friends you knew. We'll send out all our boys in blue, they'll find a way to silence you.
But there's nothing you and I can do, you and I are only two. What's right and wrong is hard to say, forget about it for today.
We'll stick our heads into the sand.
Just pretend that all is grand.
Then hope that everything turns out OK!
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