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Million Dead
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Bovine Spungiform Economics
The maternity ward where I was born Was knocked down in the first gulf war To build an airport for housing allied steel For upholding ideals like a stable petroleum price And consumer choice
Oh Lord, won't you buy me any kind of car? I've walked so far, our few remaining parks Are being smothered by cinemas And the requisite stock of car parks (Which aren't the same)
And our children will rejoice In unbridled freedom of choice Of superstores and different brands of Cultural decay
You only get out what you put in And all that we pay is credence sincere Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com At the altars of competition and desire All choice and no need
Makes Jack, a dull economist They're selling ad space on The subway walls And privatizing the tenement halls Prophet and cause superseded By profit and loss
They'd have Marshall's mustachioed face Staring down from every public place If they taught honest history in school And if people knew who he was
Oh Lord, won't you buy me any kind of car? I've walked so very far away from where I began
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