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You wake in the morning, but you're hard to find |
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A look in the mirror, what you've left behind |
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You go to your job, or you wander 'round |
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There's plenty of stuff, but nothing to be found |
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You're a late twentieth century |
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Post-modern refugee |
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A late twentieth century |
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Post-modern tragedy |
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There's nothing that'll move ya |
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There's plenty to be bought |
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There's no kind of mystery |
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There's no new thought |
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Tied up in your neurotic knots |
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Airhead celebrities, that's all you got |
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You're a late twentieth century |
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Post-modern refugee |
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A late twentieth century |
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Post-modern tragedy |
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Separated from nature and earth |
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You foraged once, now you're chained to the hearse |
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You disappeared in the checkout line |
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The price you paid was always just fine |
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You're a late twentieth century |
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Post-modern refugee |
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A late twentieth century |
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Post-modern tragedy |
