They’re driving us out of town
‘Cause luxury makes the world go round
Read it in papers every morning
“How could all this trouble come to pass?
Years and years we listened to the warning
That luxury is just a golden calf.“
And you say the rich are parasites
You say they are a curse
But as soon as you get yourself a little money
In your purse, you’re worse
Me traybt undz aroys fun shtot
Vayl ashires iz der nayer got
Shraybn tsaytungen arum di temes:
“vi zhe ken dos haynttsutog nokh zayn?
Doyres lang farshteyen mir dem emes
Az ashires iz a falsher vayn!“
Un me ruft dem oysher a paskudnyak
Un me halt im far a brokh
Nor vi bald me fardint a bisl mezumen
Makht men dem oysher nokh. Oy nokh:
“Oy, vi sheyn iz mayn mashindele!
Zet vi es halt in kepele di gantse velt!“
Oy my little phone-y thing is beautiful
See how fast it captures simply everything!
Nayn-un-nayntsik, nayn-un-nayntsik, 99% are we
99% don’t measure up these days
To one who lives in luxury
Nayn-un-nayntsik in der vog fun oylem-haze
Kumt nit tsu tsu eyn gevir
Nayn-un-nayntsik zenen mir
Nayn-un-nayntsik, nayn-un-nayntsik
Nayn-un-nayntsik zenen mir
Nayn-un-nayntsik, nayn-un-nayntsik
Nayn-un-nayntsik zenen mir
You wanna join the one percent?
Just gather ninety-nine good friends:
Take from them the best they have to offer
Let them eat the leavings of your meal
Soon you will be filling up your coffers
Scraping heaven with your glass and steel
And if they say that you’re a dirty bum
Who takes without restraint
Just make a little donation
And they’ll say that you’re a saint, a saint!
Vilst vern an oysher haynt?
Iz zaml nayn-un-nayntsik fraynd
Nem tsu bay zey dos shenste un dos beste
Zoln zey lebn a bisl eng un shmol
Du’st zikh boyen fundamentn feste
Kratsn volkns mit dayn gloz-un-shtol
Az me’t dikh rufn a pust-un-paskudnyak
A megushemdiker shtik
Zolst shenken a sheyne nedove
Vestu vern an antik, antik!
“Oy, vi klug iz undzer oysherl
Zet vi er veyst vi ostsuheyln di gantse velt!“
“Oh how smart is our philanthropist
How he heals the whole wide world with charity!“
Nayn-un-nayntsik, nayn-un-nayntsik, 99% are we
One percent’s a lonely number
Lonely with his riches and his luxury
Eyn-un-eyntsik iz der oysher
Eyn-un-eyntsik mit zayn ashires on a shir
Nayn-un-nayntsik zenen mir
But if the wheel should turn
And the stock market should crash and burn
Bloody murder scream the ruling classes
“It’s not our fault, we put the money down,“
While the rest of us are thrown out on our asses, Looking for apartments out of town
So be a pal and not a pig
You’ll have yourself to thank
Don’t make your home a slot machine
Don’t turn your town into a bank
Tomer git zikh dos redl a drey
Un di berzhe falt biz okh un vey
Shrayt der eyn-protsentnik khay vekayem
“Loz di tsore nit tsum kern tsu!“
Beys mir vos esn gvirishe shirayem
Zukhn naye dires— ober vu?!
Oyb a khaver un nit keyn khazer zayn
Iz dos lebn a geshank
Me makht nit fun a voynung a konte
Me makht nit fun a shtot— a bank!
Nayn-un-nayntsik iz a khavershaft
Eyn-un-eyntsik iz a khazershaft
Ninety-nine is a community
One percent is a fuck-you-nity
Nayn-un-nayntsik, 99% are we
99%, we are the 99%, we sing our melody
Nayn-un-nayntsik, nayn-un-nayntsik
Lomir, 99 zingen undzer shir
Nayn-un-nayntsik zenen mir