Slave to Freedom - Tygers Of Pan Tang

You shout about your freedom

You bleed for weak and poor

Pouring out your conscience

Of which you’re really sure

But who will save democracy

When all the killing’s done?

Certainly not you with your

Bombs and knives and guns

Slave to freedom

The bodies of the fallen will be your epitaph

You may not laugh the longest

But you will not laugh the last

And who will save democracy

When all the killing’s done?

Certainly not you with your

Bombs and knives and guns

Slave to freedom — your rules are nearly through

Slave to freedom — you shout for you and you

You shout about the innocent

But your guilt is plain to see

The money’s in your pocket

When the headcounting is through