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What a fucking set up,
What a real mess,
I can't make sense of it,
It doesn't make sense
Raised from your cradle,
Teethed on possession,
Reared you upon T.V. capitalism,
Spewed out of school, get a nice job,
Get turned on when you're on top.
Worry about profit margins
Don't give a fuck about human beings
Filed away in your cabinet are equal people
But they forget it, they make it.
So that you have to survive by producing crap.
Can you call that life? With the very same crap.
You have to buy back displayed on the supermarket shelf,
Over a thousand varieties to damage your health.
Inside the factory are wages for slavery,
And every product at the end of the line
And every shit flushed away in your private bog,
Is a product of another persons slog.
There maybe a little in front of your name,
But everybodys shit still smells the same.
Capitalism is Cannibalism
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