Land Of Conclusions

 

 

 

I grew up in the land of conclusions, where asking questions is a sin

I grew up in the land of conclusions, where asking questions is a sin

Ain’t a wonder, where in the mess we’re in

 

My head is spinning, my feet don’t touch the ground

My head is spinning, my feet don’t touch the ground

How can the depth of such conviction, make such a horrible sound

 

Utopia’s just a word, what’s left of the middle class

Utopia’s just a word, what’s left of the middle class

Manipulate the message, sell you a piece of ass

 

I left my pencil at the jailhouse, the lead was growing cold

I left my pencil at the jailhouse, the lead was growing cold

The shape of my misgivings will be found in a tomb of cold

 

McWorld versus Jihad is now the game we play

McWorld versus Jihad is now the game we play

Call is something else tomorrow, after all is just another day

 

 

All images & songs © HC Videll