| Baby picks off your plate-yours looks better
|
| And she throws hers on the floor
|
| Here, in the home of the brave
|
| And the land of the free
|
| The first word that baby learns is «more»
|
| So you’re out there floating like a big, puffy cloud
|
| With the pool and the charcoal
|
| And the kids and the wife
|
| 'til the reruns of your dreams are interrupted
|
| And you step out into life
|
| And it’s still gimme, gimme what you got
|
| I said gimme, gimme what you got
|
| (i want it, i want it)
|
| Gimme, gimme what you got
|
| Now it’s take and take and takeover, takeover
|
| It’s all take and never give
|
| All these trumped up towers
|
| They’re just golden showers
|
| Where are people supposed to live?
|
| You can arm yourself, alarm yourself
|
| But there’s nowhere you can run
|
| 'cause a man with a briefcase
|
| Can still more money
|
| Than any man with a gun |