| They’re makin' zebra crossings where the antelope did roam
|
| And still the concrete crumbles when the water comes back home
|
| Hey you! |
| Guru! |
| Tell me what can you do?
|
| Can you reconstruct my structure? |
| Can you distribute my blues?
|
| Interstellar travel is necessary to be where you belong
|
| Long ago, when the earth was young and the righted plans went wrong
|
| And Lo! |
| And Behold! |
| The Rock Drill speak, it’s the sound of stone
|
| Where were you, little man, when I laid down the structure of your flesh and
|
| bone?
|
| You’ve gotta, gotta, gotta be in the Syndicate
|
| You’ve gotta, gotta, gotta be in the Syndicate
|
| Future politics buried in the wall
|
| Take me to your leader, hammering on my wall
|
| That cat with fat feet deep down in the soil
|
| Is a-burnin', is a-burnin', burnin' up the midnight oil
|
| You’ve gotta, gotta, gotta be in the Syndicate
|
| You’ve gotta, gotta, gotta be in the Syndicate
|
| Be in the Syndicate
|
| Be in the Syndicate |