These are not dispassionate words of the cool
The headline still rules the editor´s a fool
Shall we douse out the flames or will everybody fuse
And leave us stranded here tomorrow

I heard a calling out, a cry from the heart
From the towns of cement and the beauty
A whisper it´s turned howl, man, he didn´t know
He was standing waiting for tomorrow
Nothing´s left, nothing´s found
There must be some common ground
Nothing´s left, nothing´s found
There must be some common ground
I could never figure the calendars flow
Nor can I work out how the wild, wild wind blows
But we´re ready from within and we´re starting to go
Away from the place of no tomorrow
Nothing´s left, nothing´s found
There must be some common ground
Nothing´s left, hold it [Incomprehensible]
There must be some common ground
Oh, the wrecking fields are a terrible place

With a sulfurous smell and a frightening pace
And the hook goes early and the critic is king
It´s hard to stay human and stand in the ring
There´s no time to be absent, a clown or a fool
While Shylock is smiling we´re loaded like mules
If we surrender ourself to industrial rules
We´ll wake up in the wreckage of tomorrow, now
Nothing´s left, nothing´s found
There must be some common ground
Nothing´s left, something´s found
Can we see some common ground