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Bovine Spungiform Economics

de Million Dead

The maternity ward where I was born,
was knocked down in the first Gulf War to build an airport,
for housing Allied steel, for upholding Allied ideals,
like a stable petroleum price and consumer choice.

Oh Lord won't you buy me
any kind of car!
I've walked so far.

Our few remaining parks are being smothered by cinemas,
and the requisite stock of car-parks (it's not the same).
And our children will rejoice in unbridled freedom of choice
of superstores and different brands of cultural decay.

Oh Lord won't you buy me
any kind of car!
I've walked so far.

You only get out what you put in,
and all that we pay is credence sincere at the altars of competition and desire.
All choice and no need makes Jack a dull economist.

They're selling ad-space on the subway walls, and privatizing the tenement halls,
prophet and cause superseded by profit and loss.
They'd have Marshall's mustachiod face staring down from every public place
if they taught honest history in schools and people knew who he was.

Oh Lord won't you buy me
any kind of car!
I've walked so very far away from where I began

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