She has gold and she has arms
She has factories and farms
She has an underground alarms
She has planes and she has ships
She has ministers with whips
She has hands, she has lips
Will she see me as a rival
As she plans her next revival?
She has wealth, she has fame
And it's always been the same
At the mention of her name,
She has curls, she has waves
She has hangers -on and slaves
And they're written on her grave
Oh, it's a case of soul survival
Until she finds her next revival
we have dreams, we have places in between
And we have doubts, we have fears
We cry wolf and we cry tinners
May it bring your slave a rival
You may be the next revival
4.9
