You shout about your freedom, You bleed for weak and poor Pouring out your conscience Of which you're really sure But who will save democracy When all the k**ing's done? Certainly not you with your Bombs and knives and guns Slave to freedom The bodies of the fallen will be your epitaph You may not laugh the longest, But you will not laugh the last
And who will save democracy When all the k**ing's done? Certainly not you with your Bombs and knives and guns Slave to freedom - your rules are nearly through Slave to freedom - you shout for you and you You shout about the innocent But your guilt is plain to see The money's in your pocket When the headcounting is through