Lyrics

We never have to stretch our imagination It is our own lives we can't believe Years of waiting for the rendezvous Between the law and reality Someone talks to themselves by the TV Someone is selling flags and gum Someone is buying a horoscope Because the stars are concerned about them You mustn't do what we did to you Says the big blonde teacher from overseas All his good works and philanthropy Still don't make the stupid sound clever Someone is at the top of the building Someone is having a vision Someone is biting the hand Of the people he chooses to deliver The studio's empty tape rolls on A C major chord floating through the air Half finished vocals that no one will hear It's in there somewhere between death and slavery