Bovine Spungiform Economics - 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Prophet and cause superseded by profit and loss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