- cifra
They're making you what you are:
Soldiers with no brains
You think (you think) you have a choice
(You don't) Money chooses for you
You play the role
Follow the herd
You play the role
Remote controlled
They scoop it up, shove it down your throat
And you swallow...
You play the role
They have their hands over your ears
You'll never hear the sounds that matter
Brainwashed by repetition
(They open your mind) with a soldering gun
Don't let them tell you what to like
Don't let them tell you what to buy
You see (you hear) what they decide;
Your radio (has got to die)!!
