Select language to translate this lyric
Pushing our buttons
Burning oil, burning crops
Burning our bodies
Spread the ashes, fertilize the dead soil
Give way, move aside
Give way, there is progress to be made
Gross domestic product moves abroad
Let us be programmed
To praise convenience
At the altars consume
Global will be done
We choose to kill
We choose convenience
We burn all soil
The fault is all ours
Our conscience we drown
In the latest fads
Clothe our skins
With blood-soaked oil-spun cloth
With blood-soaked oil-spun cloth
We steal the land to clothe our skins
With blood-soaked oil-spun cloth
We are blood-soaked
Give way, move aside
Give way, there is progress to be made
And Friedman said:
Behold what my disciples create
Prosperity for all
Glorious greed grease the global gears
Look deep into these dead eyes
And my will shall be done unto you
Give way, move aside
Give way, there is progress to be made