| Under yellow light
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| Comes the face of tomorrow
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| Lights the fuse
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| Gives meaning to
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| All that was previously hollow
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| To a soundtrack of sirens
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| And mute aspiration
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| The express train to Heathrow
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| First of the morning
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| Is leaving the station
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| Our reckless sun rises
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| On the tip of the iceberg
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| Hidden in plain sight
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| Still alive and full of surprises
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| A generation gone soft
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| Over new acquisitions, that can’t take the edge off
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| I’ve put away my childish things
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| Abandoned my silence too
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| For the future will contain
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| Random acts of senseless violence
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| The target’s hit will be non-specific
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| We’ll roll the numbers play with chance
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| All suitable locations unplanned in advance
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| Someone’s back kitchen, stacked like a factory
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| With improvised devices, there’s bound to injuries
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| With improvised devices…
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| No phone-ins, no courtesy, no kindness
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| And the future will contain
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| Random acts of senseless violence
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| And it’s not just the boredom
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| It’s something endemic
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| It’s the fear of disorder
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| Stretched to its limits
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| And the safety of numbers is just a contrivance
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| For the future will contain
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| Random acts of senseless violence
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| Democracy is very…
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| Democracy is very, very… |