Everything's distant; the death of ambition; we mourn education; we mourn our health system. Now blind competition is our now religion; the few shout compassion but nobody listens. We're fed fake faux fashion and dumbed by division; our circuits in spasm; bombarded by isms. Our rulers suck reason from behind our eyes and we're sick of this place. So why don't we just leave? Why don't we run away for the sake of brains? They're drained by platitudes and poverty. And everybody dies, so while we're alive let's fly and try to minimise our tragedy. And there's a place more dear, and while we're here we'll fear the odysseys we'll never by. I feel played. We all feel played from bosom to grave and we're sick of this place so why don't we just leave? Well maybe it's our home; an insult to our own; we know a part of this so urgently. And no wilderness we roam will wear this from the bone; where our guts are rooted. And it's not like it's only me who's tired of the grind; whose gonna lose their mind. From time to time we pull at the binds beneath. But deep in the group where we first moved and breathed we'll never leave.