System, system, system   Death in life   System, system, system   The surgeons knife   System, system, system   Hacking at the cord   System, system, system   A child is born      Poor little fucker, poor little kid   Never asked for life, no she never did   Poor little baby, poor little mite   Crying out for food as her parents fight   Crying out for food as her parents fight      System, system, system   Send him to school   System, system, system   Force him to crawl   System, system, system   Teach him how to cheat   System, system, system   Kick him off his feet      Poor little schoolboy, poor little lad   They'll pat him if he's good and they'll beat him if he's bad   Poor little kiddy, poor little chap   They'll force feed his mind with their useless crap   They'll force feed his mind with their useless crap      System, system, system   They'll teach her how to cook   System, system, system   Teach her how to look   System, system, system   They'll teach her all the tricks   System, system, system   Create another victim for their greasy pricks      Poor little girly, poor little wench   Another little object to prod and pinch   Poor little sweety, poor little filly   They'll fuck her mind so they can fuck her silly   They'll fuck her mind so they can fuck her silly      System, system, system   He's grown to be a man   System, system, system   Taugh to fit the plan   System, system, system   Forty years of jobs   System, system, system   Pushing little buttons, pulling little knobs      Poor fucking worker, poor little serf   Working like a mule for half of what he's worth   Poor fucking grafter, poor little gent   Working for the cash that he's already spent   Working for the cash that he's already spent      He's selling his life   She's his loyal wife   Timid as a mouse   She's got her litlle house   He's got his little car   And they share the cocktail bar   She likes to cook his meals   You know, something that appeals   Sometimes he works til late   So his supper has to wait   But she doesn't really mind   Cos he's getting overtime   He likes to put a bit away   Just for that rainy day   Cos every little counts   As the cost of living mounts   They do the pools each week   Hoping for that lucky break   Then they'd take a trip abroad   Do all the things they can't afford   She'd really like to have a fur   He'd like a bigger car   They could buy a bungalow   With a Georgian door for show   He might think of leaving work   But no, he wouldn't like a shirk   He'd much prefer to stay   And get his honest days pay   He's got a life of work ahead   There's no rest for the dead   She's tried to make it nice   He's said thankyou once or twice      System, system, system   Deprived of any hope   System, system, system   Taught they couldn't cope   System, system, system   Slaves right from the start   System, system, system   Til death do them part.      Poor little fuckers, what a sorry pair   Had their lives stolen, but they didn't really care   Poor little darlings, just your ordinary folks   Victims of the system and it's cruel jokes   Victims of the system and it's cruel jokes.      The couple views the wreckage   And dreams of home sweet home   They'd almost paid the mortgage   Then the system dropped its bomb