[Intro] [The song starts with a cool, strolling upright bass line. A finger snaps on every second and fourth beat.] Spoken [with a smooth, oily charm]: One, two, three, four... Start the count, boys. We’ve got work to do. Stay focused... wait five years, and you might just get a promotion. (A playful, brassy flourish time) [Verse 1] [Singing with a suave, melodic lilt] You walk the lanes, through the street Turning left, and turning right ‘Cause all you see is money flow Through the vein of the long ago... Until your body fully gives— [Music stops for a tiny drum rimshot] OUT! [Music resumes instantly, smoother than before] ‘Cause all we want... is that green. [Pre-Chorus] [The brass gets a bit louder, more rhythmic] It’s a beautiful cycle, a marvelous climb, We’re just the architects of your wasted time. Don't look at the clock, don't look at the sun, The ledger says the fun has just begun! [Chorus] [Full Big Band sound—swinging and grand] Yeah, we lie right through your face! Corporate greed—it’s in the name! Until our pockets are filled with green, Where your bones... fully creak. And all the gold, stacked between, It’s Corporate Greed! [Vocals get husky and low] (Greed... Greed...) All we want is that green, Rooting down your greedy core. All the lies we spread in your mind... ‘Cause all we want... is that gold. [Bridge] [The tempo slows down. A solo saxophone plays a "sleazy" jazz melody] Why the long face, kid? It’s just business. You provide the sweat, we provide the... well, the vault! It’s a symphony of silver, a chorus of cash, Watching all your little dreams turn to ash. (like a sudden, loud brass blast!) [Chorus] [Maximum "showstopper" energy] Yeah, we lie right through your face! Corporate greed—it’s in the name! Until our pockets are filled with green, Where your bones, they fully creak! And all the gold, stacked between, It’s Corporate Greed! (Greed... Greed...) All we want is that green, Rooting down your greedy core. All the lies we spread in your mind... ‘Cause all we want... is that gold! [Outro] [The music winds down back to just the bass and the snapping fingers] All the gold... All that lovely green... [A final, high-pitched trumpet note] Spoken: Don’t forget to clock out on your way out. [The sound of a heavy vault door slamming shut]: CLANG
