Ain't no sunshine in technology, no holiness in God
Magic in the industry or peace that's built on bombs
And I believe in everything
That don't mean I'm not wrong

Because if I was right then surely I'd be something that I'm not

The grand reappearance of the passion and the fear happens
Walking past the commission flats high out of my mind
As end comes to a meaning's end, everything makes sense
I forget sometimes that I'm alive
A gunshot explodes in the distance; we all offer some weak resistance
I hear trains rattle their late assistance to a thousand people a day
All going the other way
And I maintain the straightest line I can, try and do something with my hands
As I patch myself up with gaffer tape, hoping to hold together for the great escape

We're living on impulse and the times we don't get caught
We're living with each other despite the suicide attempts, car accidents and all these filthy fucking cigarettes
So I listen to talkback radio and I practice conversation, hearing and patience
And I've never had a brother, but now I have a few
And we deal with our first world problems with suitable aplomb
We learn to love the beast, we learn to dodge the bomb
And everything that matters to me, you wrote down in a song
But I ask you Tom, "Where have all the kids from the corners gone?"
It's Saturday and they're all indoors