| On this hollow earth
|
| In this empty space
|
| We all dance to a tune
|
| Played by the master race
|
| Those faceless moneymen
|
| Yeah, you’re probably one of them
|
| Hear their endless muzak tune
|
| That plays on and on
|
| And when the bullshit happy choir
|
| Greets another grim day
|
| When the angels swim to our aid
|
| Well, here comes another cliché
|
| While we hide from our barren end
|
| The advertisers pretend
|
| That the world is as they say
|
| Well, here comes another cliché
|
| On this hollow earth
|
| In this empty space
|
| We all dance to a tune
|
| Played by the master race
|
| Those faceless moneymen
|
| Yeah, you’re probably one of them
|
| Hear their endless muzak tune
|
| That plays on and on
|
| And when the bullshit happy choir
|
| Greets another grim day
|
| When the angels swim to our aid
|
| Well, here comes another cliché
|
| While we hide from our barren end
|
| The advertisers pretend
|
| That the world is as they say
|
| Well, here comes another cliché
|
| And when the bullshit happy choir
|
| Greets another grim day
|
| When the angels swim to our aid
|
| Well, here comes another cliché
|
| While we hide from our barren end
|
| The advertisers pretend
|
| That the world is as they say
|
| Well, here comes another cliché |