Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
The way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
The way you are

These fingers aren't my fingers
These hands are not my hands
No one sees and no one cares What gets broken
Not for rhyme and not for reason
What gets broken
What gets broken

Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
(to tomorrow, to tomorrow)
The way you are
(to tomorrow, much better)

Going far, getting nowhere
(to tomorrow, to tomorrow)
The way you are
(to tomorrow, much better)

In the rhythm my machinery
Slows to a heartbeat
Echoing ghost just laid by
Those who whistle while they work
Out of time and out of season
What gets broken

Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
Going far, the way you are

Going far, getting nowhere
(to tomorrow, to tomorrow)
The way you are
(to tomorrow, much better)

Going far, getting nowhere
(to tomorrow, to tomorrow)
The way you are
(to tomorrow, much better)