Subject, Citizen - Consumer
Free/Fair Trade - Mass Producer
Now we're so free
To sell these fetters of subtlety

This is Progress
You are Powerless

While our love's as white as snow
And our lust's as black as ash
The Tulips bow their pretty heads
Just waiting for The Crash

The hand that rocks the cradle
The hand that locks the gate
The hand that guides the market
The hand that we create

The is Progress
You are Powerless

While our love's as white as snow
And our lust's as black as ash
The Tulips bow their pretty heads
Just waiting for The Crash

Sitting in our English Country Garden
And we're all just dying, dying inside


Lyrics submitted by HalfJack

Tulips song meanings
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