Every step that we tread, the dead are behind us Throwing shadows out over our heads And they land far in front of us No oceans left to cross, no mountains left to climb 'Cause that's what I've been told And it's got so hard to look around And see just who can save you if you don't have a pot of gold Was there ever a time like this? As the noise of the past builds up into a crescendo The layers of rubbish waste that accrue Are amplified a million times or more But our heads just can't cope as we fall Into the arms of the waiting mystics Books burning barrels turning A million wasted futures light up the night sky
Small hopes flash past and wave While foreign forces wait and pray And a fear of the future beats so deep in our hearts That we’ll all but destroy ourselves Like the centuries-old feuds Being upgraded with high-tech weapons In the end it's not the future but the past that'll get us I always believed that ideas cost lives That's why I was always in line for the sacrifice But now my eyes point ahead away from the ghosts of the dead