In the TV news, it's going to swing,
a horror film to distract you
Bombs explode on the other side,
kings of the world need cash, the ozone layer will suffer
But it's the nation that decides,
while they'll be reassuring you,
telling you they were forced to,
You will be able to forget the poor guys that are killed
War is a powerless man's game,
a game of old, boring men
And when they feel caught,
never lack reasons even if it means lying

Fuck all the world leaders, the flags, the greed,
the colourful carnage and wars it's Death, Live on TV (x2)

Ordinary suffering can't be showed in music
because the violent flood of cynical pictures has its relay station:
the magic small screen
Is horror softer when it goes through the cathode ray tube
And atrocity more decent between two adverts
destroy, but consume
Human barbarity, at least that's what I think,
isn't bearable when it's wrapped in nuances

Fuck all the world leaders, the flags, the greed,
the colourful carnage and wars it's Death, Live on TV (x2)

Are white gloves put on to talk about distress
Are we handled with white gloves to talk about distress

Do cameras film with delicacy what the world throws at my face,
no words of love nor roses,
do you really think this streams of mud incite me to whisper torrents of soft words,
I will croon when the world will be better or
I will stop singing because others do it better
Since the world lives on,
men kill each other and for a few patches of earth,
For their faith in god,
To build up borders all around them, they fill cities with graves

Fuck all the world leaders, the flags, the greed,
the colourful carnage andwars it's Death, Live on TV (x2)