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