| Gather round and listen and I’ll tell you how’s it’s done
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| How they manage to make idiots out of everyone
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| Take a human population with their hunger and their pain
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| And the weaknesses that cripple them again and again
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| Invent a splendid party where dreams can be won
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| And with bright flashing lights, the heartaches are gone
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| With sex and with money and with everything for free
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| Then show tantalising glimpses every night on TV
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| Watch the dirty hands that laboured hard for you
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| Stretching out like children for a crumb that they can chew
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| Give a car and video and a little bit to spare
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| And go on promising that more could all be theirs
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| Ch: All lies, all lies, all schemes all schemes
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| Every winner means a looser in the western dream
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| The producer swears silently it cannot be heard
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| And the camera crew are muttering those four letter words
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| Another take is needed so the show can go on
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| With a patronising smile and a popular song
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| They tell when to laugh, they tell you when to cheer
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| So the audience at home will get the right idea
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| They watch like children left out of a playground gang
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| Conforming their lives the way they hope will get them in
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| Ch: All lies, all lies, all schemes all schemes
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| Every winner means a looser in the western dream
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| It seems to me sometimes there’s only two ways to choose
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| In this whirlpool made of a thousands years
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| Either live in these ghettos and know your place
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| Or you trample over everyone in the human race
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| I wish we could find another way to go
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| Without the Ghost of Cain in everything we do
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| The bitterness in failure and the dirt in success
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| This is our choice |