Why do you feel that that kind of hunted,
perilous and fear-ridden life
is preferable to the salesman with the briefcase walking up Broadway?
Well, perhaps the only answer I can say is,
it's your own life,
it's your own misery,
it's your own misfortune.
The other way,
one doesn't feel himself.
What are you looking
to fly away?
Or are you looking
for a place
to tie your nails?
Doesn't matter what we choose
To tie your nails
Doesn't matter what we choose
To stand outside this machine
To see the gears turning
And I regret
A life of blind living
And I regret A life of blind living
Once it's gone
It won't come back
Your walls will crumble
Your walls will crack
And the water will
rage in To break your soul
And tear your skin
