| Bet your bottom dollar
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| That I’ve been getting offers every day
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| I’m a coveted slave
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| They took me to lunch
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| I talked, they bought it
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| Then they sold my soul while it slept in the garden to a High-rise
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| Every step that you take is sequential
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| When every move you make gets bank rolled
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| You better believe I was shocked
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| When I saw this thing was propped up
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| By fear and its sponsors:
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| The banks and the law
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| When I felt a hand take ahold of my face
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| Yelling «Put all your goddamn' friends in their places
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| Show them the ropes»
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| So I took them to lunch
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| They ate, I bought it
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| In exchange for their will
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| And I put them all to work on my High-rise
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| Where every dream is inconsequential
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| You should count your blessings we’re taking this over
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| You’re one of the lucky ones, you know you’ve got it made
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| An iron fist with a velvet grip is better than a cage
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| Oddly enough, the lower class
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| That built this town, that broke their backs
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| Are getting word they’re going to war
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| And everyone claps with tears in their eyes
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| Like we’ve got their backs, good patriots
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| Yelling «Show them what First World lead does to a mud hut
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| Lest any man should ever ‘gain mess with us.»
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| «Back to the East» says the sun to the soldier
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| As it sets on the West, as to curtsy in respect for his bravery
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| Because all his dreams are inconsequential
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| They say it’s anti-American to oppose all our violence
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| Thus, the pro-life hypocrisy: the talent pool is broke
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| The things enjoyed by the rich are always built by the poor
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| You ain’t supporting the troops if you ain’t supporting their war |