its high time to fly in the face of this lie. it is over. to slave for ideals that have long been ordeals. must be over. so come on you men, dont get conned yet again. finding out youve got nowt, must be over. sometimes i vote for the men in white coats. but im dreaming. with community dead and a rat race instead. i'd be dreaming. that i could be heard, in this state of absurd, really dreaming. 'wacko' right, out there for good. you know in your heart of hearts, in your vision, in your children, that youv'e got to make a new start. the people whove got three worlds on sale, would rip the fourth apart, re-package you rip you off, flog the only heart, in the sell out. not brave enough to change it, too low down to inherit the earth.