| Streets echo the last retreat
|
| Dust falls to the ground
|
| A mother cries help
|
| While walking in paradise
|
| Look around and you’ll see
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| We’re stripping it bare
|
| Soon there’ll be no place to turn
|
| Who plays the hand of fools
|
| With who’s God given right
|
| It’s out of control
|
| Don’t it show
|
| While profit oils the big machines
|
| And we’re short changed the facts
|
| Where does it stop
|
| The lifeblood is slipping away every day
|
| And who plays the hand of fools
|
| With who’s God given right
|
| It’s out of control
|
| It’s out of control
|
| And who plays the hand of fools
|
| In a war torn and savage place
|
| It’s out of control
|
| And it chills to the bone
|
| And who plays the hand of fools
|
| With who’s God given right
|
| It’s out of control
|
| It’s out of control
|
| And who plays the hand of fools
|
| In a war torn and savage place
|
| It’s out of control
|
| And it chills to the bone
|
| And who plays the hand of fools
|
| With who’s God given right
|
| It’s out of control
|
| It’s out of control
|
| Za za zoo |