Tekstovi: Napalm Death. Order Of The Leech. Per Capita.

Countless opinions - a hotbed of riches
Last remaining entitlement
Feeling valued?
Or devoutly subdued?
Per Capita
All placated and humoured
A billion voices shall all register - they say
Diversity for the diverse
Feeling valued?
Or devoutly subdued?
Per Capita
All placated and humoured
The movers, the shakers - largely abjecy fakers
Scale their ivory towers
Democracy sours, peasant
Democracy sours, peasant!
Self-interest in the pure sense is pushing for the privilege
Not to be undervalued or singled out as surplus - dead weight
Democracy sours, peasant!
Per Capita, you are entrapped...
...Away from their precious glass houses
Which you'd shatter with stones of just justice
Exposing the power base for all its filthy favouritism
Per Capita, they've got your number...
...Turning the rest against your so-called reprehensible deviance
Setting new precedents for crass behaviour
And so persists the untouchable elite
Scale their ivory towers, peasant!