We talk too much
We talk in circles
Till we're all spinning around
Reaching for rings on this merry-go-round

The scenery spins
We call it progress
But I've seen this all before
When all is said and done, we'll wake up on floor

We set sail
With no fixed star in sight
We drive by
Braille and candlelight

We're building towers
With no foundations
Just stacking stone on stone
Whatever it takes, mix our mortar with bones

True progress means
Matching the world to
The vision in our heads
But we always change the vision instead

We set sail
With no fixed star in sight
We drive by
Braille and candlelight