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Gather round and listen and I'll tell you how's it's done |
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How they manage to make idiots out of everyone |
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Take a human population with their hunger and their pain |
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And the weaknesses that cripple them again and again |
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Invent a splendid party where dreams can be won |
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And with bright flashing lights, the heartaches are gone |
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With sex and with money and with everything for free |
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Then show tantalising glimpses every night on TV. |
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Watch the dirty hands that laboured hard for you |
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Stretching out like children for a crumb that they can chew |
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Give a car and video and a little bit to spare |
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And go on promising that more could all be theirs |
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Ch: All lies, all lies, all schemes all schemes |
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Every winner means a looser in the western dream |
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The producer swears silently it cannot be heard |
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And the camera crew are muttering those four letter words |
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Another take is needed so the show can go on |
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With a patronising smile and a popular song |
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They tell when to laugh, they tell you when to cheer |
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So the audience at home will get the right idea |
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They watch like children left out of a playground gang |
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Conforming their lives the way they hope will get them in |
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Ch: All lies, all lies, all schemes all schemes |
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Every winner means a looser in the western dream |
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It seems to me sometimes there's only two ways to choose |
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In this whirlpool made of a thousands years |
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Either live in these ghettos and know your place |
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Or you trample over everyone in the human race |
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I wish we could find another way to go |
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Without the Ghost of Cain in everything we do |
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The bitterness in failure and the dirt in success |
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This is our choice |
