Coming out of the womb the world feels like a tomb
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We?e heavily indebted
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From the cradle to the grave, we?e always slaves
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Always tugging at credit
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See the misery and the poverty
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And how they exacerbate it
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While we?e breakin?our backs tryin?to pay back
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Loans made to dictators
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And I don? know why we sacrifice our children
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But it follows from your premises
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They?e just dollars and cents, they?e just resources to expend
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Somewhere there? a bottom line more important than yours
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The financial vultures have built a culture
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That pits us against our brothers
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And we?l always bleed as long as greed
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Can hide under freedom? cover
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Their debt relief? a source of constant grief
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To those who bear it? burden
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While the money flows North more than back and forth
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From the coffers of free trade? servants
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Little girl born in a cemetary
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All around her is dead and buried
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Born into a world devoid of hope
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Little girl born in a cemetary
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Knowing nothing of the burden she?l carry
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Your accounting owes her more than this
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The Bottom Line
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The GC5 |