| We’ll call you when you’re six years old
|
| And drag you to the factory
|
| To train your brain for eighteen years
|
| With promise of security
|
| But then you’re free
|
| And forty years you waste to chase the dollar sign
|
| So you may die in Florida
|
| At the pleasant age of sixty nine
|
| The water’s getting hard to drink
|
| We’ve mangled up the country side
|
| The air will choke you when you breathe
|
| We’re all committing suicide
|
| But it’s alright
|
| It’s progress folks keep pushin' till your body rots
|
| Will strip the earth of all it’s green
|
| And then divide her into parking lots
|
| But there’s nothing you and I can do
|
| You and I are only two
|
| What’s right and wrong is hard to say
|
| Forget about it for today
|
| We’ll stick our heads into the sand
|
| Just pretend that all is grand
|
| Then hope that everything turns out ok
|
| You’re free to speak your mind my friend
|
| As long as you agree with me
|
| Don’t criticize the father land
|
| Or those who shape your destiny
|
| 'Cause if you do
|
| You’ll lose your job your mind and all the friends you knew
|
| We’ll send out all our boys in blue
|
| They’ll find a way to silence you
|
| But there’s nothing you and I can do
|
| You and I are only two
|
| What’s right and wrong is hard to say
|
| Forget about it for today
|
| We’ll stick our heads into the sand
|
| Just pretend that all is grand
|
| Then hope that everything turns out ok |