the dead milkmen
the conspiracy song
Please let me tell you They own our homes, they own our banks We take out loans to buy them tanks They own our children, they own our pets The owned Elvis and Bernhard Goetz They own our rugs and our flower pots There ain't nothin' they haven't got They own the papers and the TV's The water works, record companies  Let me remind you They own the talk shows They make the rules They own Geraldo and Donahue They own the state, they own the church They pick the winners on Star Search They own the Christians, they own the Jews They own the Moslems, Mormons, too They put the holes in our socks They put that snake in my mail box  From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli We are all tools of the conspiracy From the littlest baby to the biggest V.I.P. We are all tools of the conspiracy  Run to the window, they're coming to get you Hide in the basement, they're coming to get you Flee to the rooftop, they're coming to get you Don't go outside, no don't let them get you  Someone should tell you, They own the CIA and the IRS They tell us where to shop and how to dress They own the workers, they own the boss They know what's in the secret sauce They own the drugs, they own the narcs We all know they own Dick Clark They own it all, they own everything They write the songs that make the whole world sing    