| I am walking through the streets
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| Of my old town
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| Looking back on the days
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| Of my youth
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| There are factories in the fields
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| Where we used to play
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| Clouds of smoke hang in the sky
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| And block out the sun
|
| God bless this house, the car and the TV
|
| Show us our idols in magazines
|
| They build us prisons without any walls
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| Money rules we can’t resist
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| Sankes of commercial TV
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| Decoy with their apples
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| False priests spit out their lies
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| Because God sells
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| If we don’t pull ourselves
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| Out of this mud
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| Our children will have to pay
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| For our sins
|
| God bless this house, the car and the TV
|
| Show us our idols in magazines
|
| They build us prisons without any walls
|
| Money rules we can’t resist
|
| We’re just wheels in a great
|
| We’re just wheels in a great
|
| MACHINERY
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| Encircled and trapped by ourselves
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| We’re enslaved to mass productions
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| Self-deception from a better life
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| Our behaviour brings corruption
|
| We buy a pig in a poke
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| And we drown ourselves in the garbage
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| Supermarkets sell
|
| Us their shit
|
| We can’t free ourselves
|
| From this world of abuse
|
| We’re just wheels in a great
|
| We’re just wheels in a great
|
| MACHINERY |