Tulips
Subject, Citizen - Consumer
Free/Fair Trade - Mass Producer
Now we're so free
To sell these fetters of subtlety
This is Progress
You are Powerless
While our love's as white as snow
And our lust's as black as ash
The Tulips bow their pretty heads
Just waiting for The Crash
The hand that rocks the cradle
The hand that locks the gate
The hand that guides the market
The hand that we create
The is Progress
You are Powerless
While our love's as white as snow
And our lust's as black as ash
The Tulips bow their pretty heads
Just waiting for The Crash
Sitting in our English Country Garden
And we're all just dying, dying inside