| We’re world industry’s thought lords, the entertainment wing
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| We keep you all in line by fixing your free will
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| Surround you with pop fantasies just slightly out of reach
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| To soften all the blows of your forced daily routine
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| We strip mine your underground culture
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| Take the bite out and rinse it clean
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| Give ourselves credit for creating it
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| Then sell it back to you at twice the price
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| Our pool of talent vampires has blown into your town
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| To dazzle, sign and milk you all strictly on our terms
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| You think you’ve got a lot to say, we’ll change that real soon
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| You’re not a person anymore, we’ve made you a cartoon
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| By the time we’re through remolding you
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| You won’t even recognize your face
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| There’s no end to the eager beavers
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| Drawn the moths to our Babylon’s mirage
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| Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
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| They all want to do the fleshdance
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| Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
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| Who all want to do the fleshdance
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| Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
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| They all want to do the fleshdance
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| Conveyor belt of fleshdunce
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| Who all want to do the fleshdance |