If the working man has all the land and we have all the fun Does it rain on everyone or am I dreaming If I substitute the tried and true upon a razor's edge Only half what's in my head can I believe in Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn For the modern man who rules the world I walked the middle path of life before I placed my bets Oh, just like all the rest afraid of dying We race to make the mark before the theater goes dark And searching for a spark we dream we're flying Does a sicker moon then bloom a thorn For the modern man who rules the world Oh, come on down you songbirds You are only singing to yourselves Spectators of your silence The mythologizes to a truth Are you are you Are you are you Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn For the modern man who rules the world Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn For the modern man who rules the world