When your heart of gold
Feels heavy and cold,
And your little slice of paradise
Is getting kinda old,
When you’ve won the game
And lost your soul, well…
Who can you really blame?
And what do you do in hell?
Are your goals still the same,
Do you crave the taste of fame?
Can you hear the tolling bell,
Are they calling out your name?
I would never take my soul to sell
And let my body be a shell.
But I have a hollow feeling,
And a wound that isn’t healing.
It’s probably something else.
At least I know it’s not unique.
I see it worse in someone else
At least once or twice a week.
I belong here, I swear,
I have found a home here,
In this dim and dusty lair,
I can finally sleep without fear.
It’s about the best we can do
Without knowing what’s true.
What more do you want from us
Whose minds aren’t safe to trust?
Our civilization is a supermarket.
Our society is a garbage pit.
Our culture is in kindergarten
But it’s our home, and we belong to it.