| Streets echo the last retreat | |
| Dust falls to the ground | |
| A mother cries help | |
| While walking in paradise | |
| Look around and you'll see | |
| We're stripping it bare | |
| Soon there'll be no place to turn | |
| Who plays the hand of fools | |
| With who's God given right | |
| It's out of control | |
| Don't it show | |
| While profit oils the big machines | |
| And we're short changed the facts | |
| Where does it stop | |
| The lifeblood is slipping away every day | |
| And who plays the hand of fools | |
| With who's God given right | |
| It's out of control | |
| It's out of control | |
| And who plays the hand of fools | |
| In a war torn and savage place | |
| It's out of control | |
| And it chills to the bone | |
| And who plays the hand of fools | |
| With who's God given right | |
| It's out of control | |
| It's out of control | |
| And who plays the hand of fools | |
| In a war torn and savage place | |
| It's out of control | |
| And it chills to the bone | |
| And who plays the hand of fools | |
| With who's God given right | |
| It's out of control | |
| It's out of control | |
| Za za zoo |