| We talk too much, we talk in circles | |
| Till we're all spinning 'round | |
| Reaching for rings on this merry-go-round | |
| Scenery spins, we call it progress | |
| I've seen this all before | |
| When all's said and done, wake up on the floor | |
| We set sail with no fixed star in sight | |
| We drive by | |
| Braille and candle light | |
| We're building towers with no foundation | |
| Just stacking stone on stone | |
| Whatever it takes, mix our mortar with bones | |
| True progress means | |
| Matching the world to the vision in our heads | |
| We always change the vision instead | |
| We set sail with no fixed star in sight | |
| We drive by | |
| Braille and candle light |
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