Lyrics

Down in the financial zone The steam comes from beneath the pavement High on stress or high on speed Nobody wants to know Broken vending machine and yellow paint Smells like nothing and smells like plastic chemicals Nobody wants to know, no Elevator is going down It's thirty flights to welcome ground Eyes on plastic numbers Nobody wants to know He thinks of when his father died He felt nothing It's some kind of psychic suicide As the elevator doors open It's over It's over It's over It's over It might as well be in the desert The daily killings and the lifeless land It's hollow and it's pale It's silent as it's blind It's not just me or what I see But a simple calculation Nobody wants to know It's over It's over It's over It's over