The Bottom Line

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