| I crushed up ergot and made it a paste
|
| I spread it on the dollar bills
|
| Everyone who touched it caught the disease
|
| For luscious bits of landfill
|
| It sparked an epidemic of self hate
|
| They wanted it so bad they could kill
|
| Everyone believing everything ain’t enough
|
| Trampling bodies on the tread mill
|
| Makin' money, all things shiny
|
| (If you don’t spend it, you are spent)
|
| Bullet into gun
|
| Barrel lips pout
|
| Finger in the ring
|
| Money into mouth
|
| The first letter in Sydney is a dollar sign
|
| The first symbol in London is a pound
|
| The life ain’t yours 'til you fuck it away
|
| The dream ain’t yours until it’s burned to the ground
|
| The city of beauty is built on the dead
|
| Temple of wealth is built on the poor
|
| Spend life just passing away
|
| 'til you get up off your belly and crawl
|
| You are allowed to burn books, hope can rot
|
| Dreams go up in flames, that’s ok
|
| We’ll turn a blind eye if you burn a poor man
|
| But if you burn your money… You’re going to pay
|
| Anger is a currency, acidically mad
|
| Hatred is the new economy
|
| I am the inspiration of every wicked woman
|
| Viciously corrupt, greed is monogamy
|
| All power, all truth, all knowing, all destroying, all dying… not caring |