Gonna hold you to ransom.
Gonna shoot my own foot.
Gonna cut off my nose to spite my face.
Gonna go down to the harbour, dump it all in the bay.
Make sure those fat cats win the day.
I'll do anything just to get in your way.
Chorus:
Hey, hey, what do you say?
Hey, hey, what can you say?
How do you like them apples babe?
Matches, power, gonna set the world on fire.
Push it right to the edge, toss it into a spin.
Give credit.
Credit's due.
The bankers laugh, the devil grins.
And the one who says he's willing to pull the trigger wins.
Chorus
How do you like them apples babe?
How do you like them apples babe?
How do you like them apples babe?
How do you like them apples babe?