| The maternity ward
|
| Where I was born
|
| Was knocked down in the first Gulf War to build an airport
|
| For housing Allied steel
|
| For upholding Allied ideals
|
| Like a stable petroleum price and consumer choice
|
| Oh Lord won’t you buy me any kind of car
|
| I’ve walked so far
|
| Our few remaining parks
|
| Are being smothered by cinemas
|
| And the requisite stock of car-parks (it's not the same)
|
| And our children will rejoice
|
| In unbridled freedom of choice
|
| Of superstores and different brands of cultural decay
|
| Oh Lord won’t you buy me any kind of car
|
| I’ve walked so far
|
| You only get out what you put in
|
| And all that we pay is credence sincere at the altars of competition and desire
|
| All choice and no need makes Jack a dull economist
|
| They’re selling ad-space on the subway walls
|
| And privatizing the tenement halls
|
| Prophet and cause superseded by profit and loss
|
| They’d have Marshall’s mustachiod face
|
| Staring down from every public place
|
| If they taught honest history in schools and people knew who he was
|
| Oh Lord won’t you buy me any kind of car
|
| I’ve walked so very far away from where I began |