Come together one and all, and hear what they've got to say. They're here to save your soul, and come to save the day. The soapbox is open, as long as you've got the cash. A quick speech, photo op, take the money man.

Hey mister who's to blame, you've got no reason, got no shame, your black suit fits you nice, but you'll get no where til you name your price.

They'll tell you what you want to hear, they'll make your problems disappear, now they've got you feeling fine. But they won't understand, unless you speak they're native tongue, money's the language where they come from.

Hey mister who's to blame, you've got no reason, got no shame, your black suit fits you nice, but you'll get no where til you name your price.

Sign. Sign. Sign on the dotted line.

Hey mister who's to blame, you've got no reason, got no shame, your black suit fits you nice, but you'll get no where til you name your price.