And I lie here
staring up at the stratosphere
and hoping we're gonna get out of here
And it seems mad
that we're born on the doorstep
of squalor and of pedistools
And I lie here
surrounded by a range of general anaesthetics
To drowse the fact that fumbling insecurity
is not matched by spreading inequalities
In the sunlight
where you caught us,
plotting the downfall of hoarders
In the sunlight where you caught us
In the sunlight
where you caught us,
plotting the downfall of hoarders
In the sunlight where you caught us
It seems that every gap in the fence
we'll peak, we'll scratch, we'll stretch, we'll grab anything we can
And if we group together
and made a bigger hope
that just for our children's hands
but for bigger plans
Yeah if we group together
and made hope
'cause I don't know about you but I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
Woah
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
I've gotta get out of here
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Woah-oh-oh-oh
Wheeling forth
So turbulently
Accepting all the normality
Drenched with routine
Doused in the foreseen
And yes, granted we do prosper.
But the fact that we prosper
Is even taken for granted.
