A simple singalong sums up the state of the “sale of our state” situation.
They stole 11 trillion and no one went to jail
We’re not gonna sit around and wait for them to go to hail
If we work together there’s a chance we will prevail
So everybody stand and shout, “My country’s not for sale.”
My country’s not for sale, not for sale
My country’s not for sale, not for sale
My country’s not for sale, not for sale
You crooks are going to jail! (or hail!)
They run amok all in Iraq
Around the world they still attack
We cannot make them take it back
But we can give them all the sack
If we work together we can overturn this claque
They’re worse than meth and crack
Get your Gucci bags and pack
Get your Gucci bags and pack, you hack
Get your Gucci bags and pack, like Freddie Mac
Get your Gucci bags and pack, don’t slack
You crooks are going to jail (or hail)
They make us buy with our tax checks
Their military industrial plex
We’ll all become their drone objects
It feels like really awful sex
If we work together we can all be King and Malcolm X
So everybody stand and shout
No, you don’t own the world!
NO, you don’t own the world! Don’t be obtuse!
NO, you don’t own the world! Turn it loose!
NO, you don’t own the world! Owning a world is world abuse!
NO, you don’t own the world!