The custom concern for the people Build up the monuments and steeples to wear out our eyes
I get up just about noon My head sends a message for me to reach for my shoes and then walk Gotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta have a job
Goes through the parking lot fields Didn´t see no signs that they would yield and then thought This´ll never end, this´ll never end, this´ll never stop
Message read on the bathroom wall Said, "I don´t feel at all like I fall" And we´re losing all touch, losing all touch, building a desert