Corporate Hill by Greg Fleming published on 2015-06-22T22:52:55Z Corporate Hill (words and music by Greg Fleming) Another millionaire in a big old bed white as a sheet and almost dead. Friends lining up to pay their respects taking bets on who is next. Then the truth came out he stole and lied and the world was better off the day he died. He made a lot of rich men richer still. He’s a hero up there on Corporate Hill. They smile and they flatter and they throw down crumbs and when we lose our jobs they call us bums. They’ll buy you for a dollar and sell you for ten and cut your wages back again. On Corporate Hill the lights shine bright, they got the smartest minds to make wrong seem right. My Daddy wants me to work harder still, so I can make it up there on Corporate Hill. There’s a crowd at the gates and they’re shaking their fists, they aint got enough money to feed their kids. The market’s in flames And the banks are closed, a dollar aint worth a shake of salt. On Corporate Hill The flags still fly “Was that the company fireworks Lighting up the sky?” Extra steaks go on the grill, there’s some hungry people there on Corporate Hill. And despite their hunger And their hopeless minds And their broken hearts up they climbed. Somebody cried – “make ‘em sign, like they made us do, on the bottom line.” Right at the top they found’ em all, steaks on their plates in the banquet hall. They climbed the tower, they rang the bell. There’s some new people now on Corporate Hill. As I sit and watch the city at night I pray for those who died in the fight. I lost count of all the men I killed. That’s the price you pay to stay on Corporate Hill. Words and music Greg Fleming Produced by Wayne Bell. Recorded at The LAB Engineer Olly Harmer Mastered by Olly Harmer The Working Poor are Greg Fleming vocals, acoustic guitar. John Segovia- elec gtr Andrew Thorne - elec gtr Nick Duirs - piano, bvs Mark Hughes - bass Wayne Bell - drums www.gregfleming.co.nz Genre Stranger In My Own Hometown
