We were born to this century, to a world we've never seen
Our clothes are stained with misery, has every dog had it's say?
I've got to smile, I'm in a free and pleasant land
Money grows off the backs of young and old
Chained to a wall in a toyland, they toil and toil and toil
While we just watch and we abhor
There's lot's of money to be made when man walks over man in the game
He wears it well, he's got to smile. It's there on television all the while