| Children will play in the street |
| Crying with glass in their feet |
| Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no place to go |
| They’ve sent you to an institution |
| They’ve tied your hands behind your back |
| Once you were a flying thing |
| Now you’re on the rocks with broken wings |
| Once you were proud to be a man |
| You carried out your own tiny part of the plan |
| You would decide, you’d gamble your pride, but you would decide |
| And now they’ve really got you tagged |
| I saw you in the thinking game |
| Now you’re on the rocks with damaged brains |
| Hold tight, hold tight, keep those hands on your given birthright |
| Alright, alright, keep your eyes on the demon in disguise |
| You must never close your eyes |
| Right, each night think on back to your given birthright |
| Hold tight, hold tight, just remember the feeling deep inside you |
| You know they’re trying to steal your thunder |
| They’re trying to erase your face |
| Once you were a working man |
| Now you’re on the rocks with broken hands |