Lyrics to I Saw That Look
the morning doesn't hold the same fascination
as it once did in my naivety
because the ceiling above my bedroom belies the real situation:
the crushing of the human spirit.
the greatest crime i can conceive
is the relegation of minds and hearts to the answering of the impending question:
to live or to die free?
we'll shake with the fear and hate of centuries...
there's a force inside of me
some kind of burning fever
that makes me feel alive and beautiful;
the creation inherent in destruction, the pulse of dissent
the heartbeat of an ancient struggle.
there's a sickness in the air
a final yearning clamour
let's lynch the heros of distraction
and feel the fire course through our veins down to our fingertips
and thus destroy your cities of gold.
we'll shake with the fear and hate of centuries...
"I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."
so there we were,
these two great hostile camps,
the crackle of radio static between us
as the struggle changes from being state versus people
to being creativity versus stagnation.
and would you believe
could you imagine
the spark in the air that made us all feel a hundred metres tall?
so we swayed to that incessant beat,
a thousand hearts as one,
dancing in the morning sunshine
under a shower of streamers and broken glass.
the wall we dash ourselves on is blank perspex,
scratched with desperate fingernails,
and as that drummer raises his sticks for one last number
i realize i haven't seen a single naked pair of eyes along the whole damn line.
but then i catch it,
that glance of phyrric victory,
because you know the day is ours in the end.
so stop trying to hide it,
i've seen that look in your eyes.
i've seen it
we've only got just one chance to make this mark,
so we'd better make sure it's the best one.
as it once did in my naivety
because the ceiling above my bedroom belies the real situation:
the crushing of the human spirit.
the greatest crime i can conceive
is the relegation of minds and hearts to the answering of the impending question:
to live or to die free?
we'll shake with the fear and hate of centuries...
there's a force inside of me
some kind of burning fever
that makes me feel alive and beautiful;
the creation inherent in destruction, the pulse of dissent
the heartbeat of an ancient struggle.
there's a sickness in the air
a final yearning clamour
let's lynch the heros of distraction
and feel the fire course through our veins down to our fingertips
and thus destroy your cities of gold.
we'll shake with the fear and hate of centuries...
"I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."
so there we were,
these two great hostile camps,
the crackle of radio static between us
as the struggle changes from being state versus people
to being creativity versus stagnation.
and would you believe
could you imagine
the spark in the air that made us all feel a hundred metres tall?
so we swayed to that incessant beat,
a thousand hearts as one,
dancing in the morning sunshine
under a shower of streamers and broken glass.
the wall we dash ourselves on is blank perspex,
scratched with desperate fingernails,
and as that drummer raises his sticks for one last number
i realize i haven't seen a single naked pair of eyes along the whole damn line.
but then i catch it,
that glance of phyrric victory,
because you know the day is ours in the end.
so stop trying to hide it,
i've seen that look in your eyes.
i've seen it
we've only got just one chance to make this mark,
so we'd better make sure it's the best one.
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