Coming out of the womb the world feels like a tomb
Weæ®e heavily indebted
From the cradle to the grave, weæ®e always slaves
Always tugging at credit
See the misery and the poverty
And how they exacerbate it
While weæ®e breakin?our backs tryin?to pay back
Loans made to dictators
And I donæ° know why we sacrifice our children
But it follows from your premises
Theyæ®e just dollars and cents, theyæ®e just resources to expend
Somewhere thereæ¯ a bottom line more important than yours
The financial vultures have built a culture
That pits us against our brothers
And weæ£l always bleed as long as greed
Can hide under freedomæ¯ cover
Their debt reliefæ¯ a source of constant grief
To those who bear itæ¯ burden
While the money flows North more than back and forth
From the coffers of free tradeæ¯ 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 sheæ£l carry
Your accounting owes her more than this
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