Critique in G Lyrics
There's a bastard called the economy and it keeps poor people poor
While the fat cats with the money go on making more and more
They've wrapped him in bandages to hide his gaping sores
So we can't see that he's just rotten to the core
Oh they've pumped him with medicine perscribed by good old Dr Case
No matter what they do we all get ripped off just the same
The liberals slugged us twenty-three years until we'd had enough
Everyone got sick of them so brought in uncle Gough
Then he got sacked now Malcolm's back
The neighbour of Nareen
Got the biggest election that Tammy's ever seen
Oh it doesn't matter who's in power cause it's a crooked game
It's a sure bet we will all get ripped off just the same
The economy's a mad machine which noone can control
Fat cats fight for the driver's seat but the steering wheel's been sold
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To the yanks and other foreigners who'll give it a dizzy spin
Any time they feel their ripped off pockets getting thin
Oh a little touch of makeup it's such a goddamn shame
It's a sure bet we will all get ripped off just the same
Oh there's no two ways about it if we all don't force a change
It goes on and on and we get ripped off just the same
