American Gaullist trapped in a bubble Tryna pull himself out the rubble Can't find the "I" or the "why" in collectivism Push and push and push has always been the mission Broken man crying out in the night time Wondering when the fuck is it my time? Visions and promises of a life of splendor Don't you feel a little bit misled? It's quiet in the street We all have gone to sleep The waters getting high There's no will left to fight And it won't go away! The pounding in your brain Another endless day Another dept to pay Did you really think that you'd win the rat race? Do you miss all of the things that you displaced? The dream cannot be dead if it never existed It's arrogance that you call will It's not what they have it's what they steal! It's not what you're told it's how you feel! It's not what you've been it's what you make! It's not who you are it's what you hate! It's quiet in the street We all have gone to sleep The waters getting high There's no dark without light