We're surrounded by machines Everywhere there's a screen But somewhere on the way They stopped serving our needs And we became slaves to the machines

So it's time to throw off this tyranny And take back control of our lives Cos no matter how impressive it may seem The machine stops when it's compromised

We are people, born of sticks and stones When the gears stop, we go on alone By the sweat of our brows We'll tear the whole thing down When it's time to tip the greedy off their thrones

We don't need it, if it doesn't serve We are the masters, not the slaves And all the rhetoric, all the lies Won't excuse how they behave