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Please let me tell you,
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They own our homes, they own our banks
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We take out loans to buy them tanks
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They own our children, they own our pets
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The owned Elvis and Bernard Goetz
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They own our rugs and our flower pots
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There ain't nothin' they haven't got
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They own the papers and the TV's
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The water works, record companies
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Let me remind you,
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They own the talk shows
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They make the rules
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They own Geraldo and Donahue
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They own the state, they own the church
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They pick the winners on Star Search
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They own the Christians, they own the Jews
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They own the Mormons, Moslems, too
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They put the holes in my socks
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They put that snake in my mail box
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From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli
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We are all tools of the conspiracy
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From the littlest baby to the biggest V.I.P.
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We are all tools of the conspiracy
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Run to the window, they're coming to get you
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Hide in the basement, they're coming to get you
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Flee to the rooftop, they're coming to get you
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Don't go outside, no don't let them get you
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Someone should tell you,
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They own the CIA and the IRS
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They tell us where to shop and how to dress
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They own the workers, they own the boss
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They know what's in the secret sauce
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They own the drugs, they own the narcs
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We all know they own Dick Clark
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They own it all, they own everything
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They write the songs that make the whole world sing
|
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From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli
|
We are all tools of the conspiracy
|
From the littlest baby to the biggest V.I.P.
|
We are all tools of the conspiracy
|
Run to the window, they're coming to get you
|
Hide in the basement, they're coming to get you
|
Flee to the rooftop, they're coming to get you
|
Don't go outside, no don't let them get you
|
|
From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli
|
We are all tools of the conspiracy
|
From the littlest baby to the biggest V.I.P.
|
We are all tools of the conspiracy
|
|
|
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-----------------
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The Conspiracy Song
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Dead Milkmen |