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Text: Herd, The. Long Lunch.

:
'No one thinks in terms of human beings. Governments don't, why should we? They talk about the people and the proletariat, I talk about the suckers and the mugs'
top dogs settled at Kirribilli house
give me a can of kerosene and it get liberally doused
miserable louts, you made my home a target of terrorists
and you created wealth and we see you're not sharing it
you'll be staring down the barrel of some pissed off youths
if you hypocrites on fire they wouldn't piss on you
they saw you and your cronies all wroughting the system
so they wrought the dole and ask what's the fucking difference
only a couple of million, not counting the super money
then if you want less than 50G you're out of the loop
like the rich who got the better tax accounts
like the ones who made a molehill out of Packer?s mounts
so for 6 years counting i haven't paid a cent
and if my HECS debt hit i couldn't pay the rent
don't forget that these cunts got a free education
are the same ones talking mutual obligation
CHORUS:
lay back and take the pay packet
top dogs all play the same bracket
long lunches, cars and hotels
the boss don't know so don't tell
x2
he rode the elevator to the seventh floor
sweaty palms, collar tight, as he walked into the boardroom
trying to look convincing in his ill-fitting suit
he took the space before the panel for the job interview
'now how could you contribute?' the questions came
he's only in it for the loot but he?s still playing the game
and telling them what they wanted to hear
about how they advertised appointment
was his dream career
the office monkey,
he got the job - grey petition, grey desk, grey suit, grey hair, great position
great hustles
he had the promos in the post
after hours photocopying the flyers for shows
long distance phone calls, international faxes
but soon enough his actions caught his manager's eye
written warning, last chance he was put on probation
'fine' fire me said, but think about the piss you taking when you
REPEAT CHORUS
'frankly, I'm just about sick to death of it. There's no corruption story. I'm not going to step down, I'm not going to resign. There's nothing... there's nothing there. I'm not going to resign in any case.. over a good dead. There's no corruption there. it's simply an act of good faith.'
look me in the eye and say you never saw it coming
imaged by our good will hunting
by any means nothing
we stand and talk while my minimum wage keeps cutting
you wedge me in and except to watch you keep cutting
Dolph Lundgren mixed with Mr. Ricky Gervais
you can consider this a tribute to the shit that you pay
casual rates, evict us ? shutting the drapes
lower the conditions no one ever feel for the place
you can have your caviar man I'll keep my crumbs
pay cheques and pay salaries and I'll manually add sums
so bang your hand drum
reproduction off shore
But john will stop falls through cracks in the shop floor
you all wanting me to be loyal to this chain,
this bullshit name, pay me this short change?
people have their revenge range
you know what I'm saying we speak the same
REPEAT CHORUS