Funck the System
Under the flag the of the Union Jack and the Southern Cross
Where racism is flourishing and tolerance is lost
They’re teaching jingoism, all that patriotic stuff
It gets you sent to the middle east to get your head shot off
They’ll put you in a uniform and arm you with a rifle
They’ll pack you up with grenades, landmines and a bible
Say goodbye to liberty and everything that you’ve known
Say hello to Beelzebub as they bury you in the ground
1,2,3,4
We don’t want your corporate war
5,6,7,8 we will not co-operate
The government of the business class will go to any length
They try to steal our dignity, they try to sap our strength
We need to get on down and start voting with our feet
We need to start thinkin about taking back our streets!
Racist neo nazis and fundamentalisms
We gotta put a stop to them and start to funk the system
FUNK THE SYSTEM
FUNK THE SYSTEM, YEAH!
FUNK THE SYSTEM
FUNK THE SYSTEM
FUNK THE SYSTEM
FUNK THE SYSTEM, YEAH!
FUNK THE SYSTEM
FUNK THE SYSTEM
We’ve had our heads in the sand too long
Nothing’s as it seems, everything is wrong
The TV’s on and it’s frying our brains
These contradictions are makin’ us insane
Shock jocks selling us racial hatred
Uppers and downers, they want us all wasted
They’re pushing us harder, nothing stands still
Even the church has got its hand in the till
Pin stripe suits and a lot of fancy words
Corporate competition is fucking up the world
And then when they got something to hide
They start saying that god’s on their side
The poor always pay for policy failure
Alice Springs will be coastal Australia
The future has become the red, white and blue
Oil, coal and gas. Uranium too
Road rage, muggings, stabbings and shootings
Invasions, murder, pillaging, looting
Napalm, phosphorous and oil spills
M16s and kill, kill, kill
We’ve gotta wake up, we got to understand
We’ve built a house of cards on shifting sand
The world is badly wounded and its obvious they won’t listen
We ain’t gonna stop until we’ve funked the system
There’s something troubling me, I gotta get it of my chest
The rich have more and more, the poor have less and less
The hip pocket nerve has become the guiding light
Where profits come first and might becomes right
If you greet stranger in the street, they put you in a home
If you mug a stranger in the street, then no-one wants to know
When gross national product receives a higher score
Then gross national happiness rushes out the door
Gross national selfishness - the me generation
Solidarity has become a curse of the nation
All these lost soles searching for community
Cuba and Venezuela are sounding pretty good to me
It’s always the same, they have to blame the victim
Nothing has changed, the fact remains - we’ve gotta funk the system
Arse lickers, sycophants, crawlers and dobbers
Bureaucrats, businessmen, judges and coppers
They’ve all got their fingers in the pie
The waste and corruption makes you wanna cry
Get enough cash to buy a Sherman tank
Getting away with murder means money in the bank
It gets so easy, like a walk in the park
Get a contract selling wheat to Iraq
Live vicariously through a magazine
Billionaire playboys and pictures of the Queen
Buy a lotto ticket for a future with hope
Get a credit card and a bag of dope
Taxes, charges, fines never stop
User pays, longer days, work until you drop
Obey the laws and orders from on high
Kiss your superannuation goodbye
Crystals, horoscopes, hocus potions
Plastic surgery, creams and lotions
Find yourself a guru, give her your house
Pop psychology, Swiss bank accounts
Buy useless things that you’ll never need
Satisfy the bottom line, commercial greed
Lawyers, stockbrokers, real estate agents
Door to door sellers and beauty pageants
The craziness never seems to stop
With the Union Jack and Southern Cross
The engine’s not firing on all pistons
It’s so clear to me, that we gotta funk the system