Yeah I'm listening to the radio and all I hear is noise As it seems that every single day, somebody finds another voice To paint a pretty picture of, and plaster on the wall The way they trample and sample the music like it don't matter at all So when they find me skipping town, they really shouldn't be surprised It's not like I'd stick around and wait for them to dawn their disguise As all the sheep in their wolve's clothing come and circle the block Just telling everyone they rock, and up and leading the flock Again, I'm listening to the station and the sound is filled with noise I'd like to think that in this day and age, we'd be given a choice Of what the people want to hear, and think, and drink, and spew, and sell Before they find themselves just sitting all alone again, as well But we all know that it's just trivial, the money is the fist And when they clench it all, they know they've all just told us how it is When the creative say something new, they refuse to set them free So, it's no wonder the money's scarce in the recording industry Do you remember what it all meant when they meant all of what they said? Before the greed became the good, before the fame got to their head 'Cause when the melodies come ringing through, they fail to make their mark As every flame absent the spark just turns to ashes That's right I'm packing my bags, I'm headed straight out that door And I'll be right down the Five with my foot flat to the floor As all the songs I've heard before just keep on spinning through my head As my resolve is in the fact that creativity is dead Because the message is simple, and it fails to disguise That they've been bargained, and bartered, and played for fools for all of their lives And know I know they're really saying something nobody's been playing as the voice goes over the intercom Now boarding, at terminal six to the ska city Now boarding, at terminal six to the city of ska Now boarding, at terminal six to the great big city of ska Now boarding, at terminal six, to the city of ska

Victim of reality, suddenly he starts to see The way the world revolving doesn't even blink an eye And though he doesn't break his stride, secretly he hides his mind The fog around his glasses makes a damn familiar sight Embracing the chills of the cold, the rush of never feeling old Wishing the myth of free will was more than just a dream And running now, his pace is fast, not looking back, he hates his past He's running from the gunshot wounds, he's running from the guilt I always try to live each day, But the emptiness does not fade away I never want to ever feel as ruined as my memories Such a victim of humanity, not to question what sees The child in the photograph so young and so naive And in the mirror, greying hair, the truth that's much too hard to bear But still the words that echo dream to fall on his deaf ears But what else could he hope to know? So tell me, do you believe it, tell me you've seen it, tell me whatever you want But don't you deny it, though you have tried it, slipping away now is tough And when you're away, and killing the day, remember to ask yourself, son, Do you fight for our future, or do you fight for yourself?

When naivete delivered, I know I was unafraid Slipping silently inside your warm protection But horizon gives rise to day, static to take it all away And lucidity to recognize only the lies in your disguise Put down my foot, I draw the line Leave the lights on, I'm realigned Keeping my eyes open, I'll be damned if i lose myself again Oh, and now I'm scratching at an itch, and I'm looking around And now you're asking me again, did I hear that sound? And I swear I never wanted to be less than alive, But lately everything's been seeming just a little less right My closing eyes can't see the change when sun is set and all is strange Familiar refuge, I retire my command And if I should wake to wake again, please let me know if I pretend Blind eyes to turn when you deceive, I'm only yearning to believe

Just another grey old man, wandering around public lands Never did I think his words would get through my head He came to me late last night, a funny glow in his eye, He spoke to me and he told me of the story of his life Listen to what he said 'When salvation comes is does not choose a side The ticket to hell is an unfinished ride Don't let the man make up your mind Never get lost in reality's spin of time' Reality, insanity, I'll take my thoughts into the grave It's been a whole day, but I don't understand what he meant Yet, I had a dream of the pictures he described The kings and pawns of life and death, The judges and the judged of men The only ones that matter come from deep inside the head Pictures inside my head Reality, insanity, I'll take my thoughts into the grave I wanted to be someone who believes all they see I wanted to live in the dream, not the greed I guess what I've learned didn't come from anyone else I've learned what it means to say 'me' When salvation comes it does not choose a side The ticket to hell is an unfinished ride Don't let the man make up your mind Never get lost in reality's spin of time Reality, insanity, I'll take my thoughts into the grave