Оригинален текст
Coming out of the womb the world feels like a tomb
Wee heavily indebted
From the cradle to the grave, wee always slaves
Always tugging at credit
See the misery and the poverty
And how they exacerbate it
While wee breakin?our backs tryin?to pay back
Loans made to dictators
And I don know why we sacrifice our children
But it follows from your premises
Theye just dollars and cents, theye just resources to expend
Somewhere there a bottom line more important than yours
The financial vultures have built a culture
That pits us against our brothers
And wel always bleed as long as greed
Can hide under freedom cover
Their debt relief a source of constant grief
To those who bear it burden
While the money flows North more than back and forth
From the coffers of free trade servants
Little girl born in a cemetary
All around her is dead and buried
Born into a world devoid of hope
Little girl born in a cemetary
Knowing nothing of the burden shel carry
Your accounting owes her more than this