Another Fuck You Song

To them we’re paper, numbers in a profit margin. We fill their pockets &keep
their bank accounts enlargin'. No one controls them, they’re on the inside of a structure built on bribes. Elitest inner-circle holding decisive power over a nation more corrupt by the hour. Money hungry business man, he’s got a big plan.
He’s making party donations because one hand washes the other, it’s safer to be on
the side of big brother and we all know it’s wrong so here’s another fuck you
song.
The wealthy ruling class, they keep us occupied. They fill our heads with
promises,
but we know they’re lies. To them it’s a game, and we will always lose 'cause
they
keep changing the rules.