| I can no longer count the dreams
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| Inspired by reconstructions of predicted scenes
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| The glass and metal fragments racing
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| Through the pointless heat
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| I can’t go on believing this
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| Have I lived just to witness the last decade
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| Or a golden age
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| Still I love the way this new wind whistles through my house
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| And papers fly
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| While Orwell’s world is still in doubt
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| And china shivers on a tray
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| I am untimely ripped from all forgotten bliss
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| But not afraid
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| I can’t go on
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| I can’t go on believing this
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| Have I lived just to witness the last decade
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| Or a golden age
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| Could the waiting ever be worse than the shock
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| Suppose the silver key survived
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| To turn inside the rusty lock
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| And you and I be found alive
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| Crouching in our ignorance
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| By children nearly twice our size
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| I can’t go on believing this
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| Have I lived just to witness the last decade
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| Or a golden age
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| Till they eat their words some wild voice churns deep in my blood
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| The prophets sigh
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| We always said you’d never learn
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| Then cynics long to break the brave
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| I wish their mouths all stitched so their persistant hiss
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| Is not obeyed
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| I can’t go on
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| I can’t go on believing this
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| Have I lived just to witness the last decade
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| Or a golden age
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| I do believe there are people needing freedom with good reason
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| Who will find another way
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| There’s no disgrace in understanding
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| Why our planet is in panic
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| Then, while you worry think of everything you miss
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| Additional Drums: MICHAEL DAWE
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| Guitar & Icicles: PHIL PALMER |