Songwriters: Batten, Chris; Clewlow, Liam Rory; Reynolds, Roughton; Rolfe, Robert
I lie here
Staring up at the stratosphere
And hoping we're
Gonna get out of here
It seems mad
That we're all born on the doorstep
Of squalor and of pedestals
And I lie here
Surrounded by a range of general anesthetics
To drowse the fact
That funding in 'security'
Is not matched by spreading equality
You'll hear us singing...
In the sunlight where you caught us
Plotting the downfall of hoarders
Every gap in the fence
We'll peek, we'll scratch, we'll stretch, we'll grab anything we can.
But if we grouped together
And made a bigger hole
Not just for our childrens hands
But for bigger plans
Cos I don't know about you
But I've gotta get out of here
We live so subserviently
Accepting all normality
Drenched with routine
Doused in the foreseen
And yes, granted we do prosper.
But the fact that we prosper
Is even taken for granted.
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