Ain't no sunshine in technology, no holiness in God

Magic in the industry or peace that's built on bombs

And I believe in everything

That don't mean I'm not wrong

Because if I was right then surely I'd be something that I'm not

The grand reappearance of the passion and the fear happens

Walking past the commission flats high out of my mind

As end comes to a meaning's end, everything makes sense

I forget sometimes that I'm alive

A gunshot explodes in the distance; we all offer some weak resistance

I hear trains rattle their late assistance to a thousand people a day

All going the other way

And I maintain the straightest line I can, try and do something with my hands

As I patch myself up with gaffer tape, hoping to hold together for the great escape

We're living on impulse and the times we don't get caught

We're living with each other despite the suicide attempts, car accidents and all these filthy fucking cigarettes

So I listen to talkback radio and I practice conversation, hearing and patience

And I've never had a brother, but now I have a few

And we deal with our first world problems with suitable aplomb

We learn to love the beast, we learn to dodge the bomb

And everything that matters to me, you wrote down in a song

But I ask you Tom, "Where have all the kids from the corners gone?"

It's Saturday and they're all indoors