Racket - Paul Mirror & Simone Bica

Will someone ever know What really happened on that night? When did you see the glow Started to draw numbers in white? They won't They won't let you go What have you done? Roman The time has come Roman When did you cross the line? The night was young, you were so high When did you feel the flow? It was too late, you let it go A long time ago What have you done? Roman The time has come Roman What have you done? Roman The time has come Roman What have you done? Roman The time has come Roman What have you done? Roman The time has come Roman

Ooo you're slick – you investors in hate You Saddams and you Bushes; you Bin Ladens and snakes You billionaire bullies; you're a globalized curse You put war on the masses while you clean out the purse And that's how it's done war after war You old feudal parasites just sacrifice the poor You've got the cutting edge weapons but your scam's still the same As it's been since the Romans: it's the patriot game It's the war racket You twisters of language; you creeps of disguise Your disinformation; like worms in your eyes You privileged bankers; you gambler thieves You profit on war; there's less money in peace That's how it's done time after time Country after country, crime after crime You pretend it's religion and there's no one to blame For the dead and impoverished in your little patriot game Honey, that's the war racket Got the world's greatest power and you team up with thugs Make a fortune on weapons, destruction and drugs But your flags & boots & uniforms start to all look the same When both sides are killing in the patriot game: it's the war racket And that's how it's done, and you've got our sons In the crosshairs of horror at the end of a gun And your national anthems start to all smell the same When all sides are dying in the patriot game It's the war racket And war is never, ever holy It's just a greedy men's dream And you two-faced crusaders: both sides are obscene War's not made by God: War's made by men Who misdirect our attention while you thieves do your thing And that's how it's done About every 30 years The rich fill their coffers The poor fill with tears The young fill the coffins The old hang a wreath The politicians get photographed with their names underneath It's the War Racket It's the patriot game It's the war racket