A word on the lips
A lie in the making

Block his progress, catch his fall
Let his master make the call
Passed the age of taking sides
In the corners of your eyes it lies

If we would all turn green tomorrow
It wouldn't mean a thing
We'd soon divide amongst ourselves
According to the pitch we sing

The wheel is shrinking
Snake swallows its tail

Passed the age of taking sides
In the corners of your eyes it lies

Alchemist, lungs of gold
He should've stopped when he was told

If we would all turn green tomorrow
It wouldn't mean a thing
We'd soon divide amongst ourselves
According to the pitch we sing