We're trying harder every day to make some sense of the world All the games we need to play just to make our way in the world All the fighting,all the madness that goes on inside our heads We can battle against our ideology but too many give up instead
We're finding it harder every day to understand our place in the world The more isolated we feel Our senses are buried in information that our brains can't seem to sort for a scrap pf something meaningful that doesn't always come up short
It's a sing It's a sing that we are made for better things than the tiny battles that occupy our life
Then the childhood dreams that you've lost all come flooding back