Whose loss do we loose?
What else could we disprove?
Who shapes the abuse?
You prostitute integrity and blindly steal identity.
Buy it out and watch it die;
fashion talks, the bullshit flies.
Bite your tongue and breath a sight;
take the fall or take the climb.
Streamlined and new improved,
a nation sadly out of tune.
Is it just old-fashioned - creation with a passion?
Just an observation of a machine generation.
Push this.
The same old song.
Is the message lost in this - that's not politics?
There's a rhyme to this reason:
they're one and the same.
Take the heart they've broke
and the money they've choke;
you're left with no answer
to this industry chancer.
Just an observation of a machine generation.
Push this.
The same old song.
