Lyrics
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
A knife to cut the rootĀ the root of ignorance
A knife to cut the rootĀ the root of ignorance
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
A knife to cut the rootĀ the root of ignorance
A knife to cut the rootĀ the root of ignorance
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
ScatterĀ scatter brained by the sinsĀ sins of silence
New realities are conditions
Much too little for us to suffer
Because we don't know any better
There are a hundred ways to fall in step
Because for the past two hundred years
The wine drunk and the freedom proclaimed
Oh are dubious and laughable
Waiting to yield a new use of life