| School bell go «Ding! |
| Dong! |
| Ding!»
|
| The children all line up
|
| They do what they are told
|
| Take a little drink from the liar’s cup
|
| Mama don’t really care
|
| If what they learn is true
|
| Or if it’s only lies
|
| Just get them through the factories
|
| Into production
|
| Ah, get them into line
|
| Late in the afternoon
|
| The children all come home
|
| They mind their manners well
|
| Their little lives are all laid out
|
| Mama don’t seem to care
|
| If she may break their hearts
|
| She clips their wings off, they never learn to fly
|
| Poor Mama needs a source of pride
|
| A doctor son she’ll have
|
| No matter what the cost to manhood or to soul
|
| Sun shine down, brightly shine
|
| Down on all the land
|
| Shine down on the newborn lambs
|
| A butcher’s knife is in his hand
|
| Mama, she keeps them unprepared
|
| To meet the enemy
|
| That’s comin' unto us
|
| Teach them that evil dwells across the sea
|
| Lives in a mountain
|
| Like they see on TV
|
| Down in the heart of town
|
| The Devil dresses up
|
| He keeps his nails clean
|
| Did you think he’d be a boogeyman?
|
| Oh, Mama’s stuck with sagging dreams
|
| She’ll sell a son or two into some slavery
|
| That’s lucrative and fine
|
| Just teach them not to criticize
|
| Say «Yes"to bosses, impress the clients
|
| Ah teachers of the world teach them to fake it well
|
| School bell go «Ding! |
| Dong! |
| Ding!»
|
| The children all line up
|
| They do what they are told
|
| Take a little drink from the liar’s cup |