| On this hollow earth |
| In this empty space |
| We all dance to a tune |
| Played by the master race |
| Those faceless moneymen |
| Yeah, you’re probably one of them |
| Hear their endless muzak tune |
| That plays on and on |
| And when the bullshit happy choir |
| Greets another grim day |
| When the angels swim to our aid |
| Well, here comes another cliché |
| While we hide from our barren end |
| The advertisers pretend |
| That the world is as they say |
| Well, here comes another cliché |
| On this hollow earth |
| In this empty space |
| We all dance to a tune |
| Played by the master race |
| Those faceless moneymen |
| Yeah, you’re probably one of them |
| Hear their endless muzak tune |
| That plays on and on |
| And when the bullshit happy choir |
| Greets another grim day |
| When the angels swim to our aid |
| Well, here comes another cliché |
| While we hide from our barren end |
| The advertisers pretend |
| That the world is as they say |
| Well, here comes another cliché |
| And when the bullshit happy choir |
| Greets another grim day |
| When the angels swim to our aid |
| Well, here comes another cliché |
| While we hide from our barren end |
| The advertisers pretend |
| That the world is as they say |
| Well, here comes another cliché |