Tons of steel, glass and crushed concrete
Flooring down the city streets
He’s wounded, the Leader of the World
Wondering why

Meanwhile, the struggling helpless nations
Are rising up from slaving
And regain their pride

The leader makes the rules
And its rule is raw
Its sharp teeth bright in the freezing sun
He declares, apocalypse now
It's a thriller!

I can sleep I can smile
Soul for sale
I'm a rolling son

Sweatshop boys, starving kids 
Sex slaved women
Look out there the armies against the leaders

Cocacolized, macdonized, 
CIAzed, KGBized, 
And still unsatisfied

I can win I can smile
Soul for sale, who wants it?
I can win I can smile
Soul for sale
I'm a rolling son

(Mingus) Wake up and smell the corpses it’s apocalypse now
The illusion that all is useful is distortion no doubt
And the truth can seem confusing if your view is denial
Revolution is due, concluding that we’re due for the now
They’re polluting the Nile, drinking with no clue of the foul
Removing your smile, gruesome, took the blue from the sky
Including the mind, trapped with no view of the light
Reviewing all sides, we’re doomed unless the movement is now
It’s all political, they’re all so cynical, 
With no preference for the people they serve, it’s pitiful.

I can sing I can shine
Soul for sale, who buys it?
I can sing I can shine
Soul for sale
I'm a rolling son