We can only blame ourselves for this sickly Ghost Trade Action turns to gesture, ideas are soon clichéd Man is but a hat and coat, woman becomes torso Conveyor-belt of shadows of our former selves Nothing is quite what it seems We never say what we mean No strings attached, we stand or fall left to our own devices We live our lives all dressed up in Emperor's new clothes Vectors of pockets and stomachs Vistas of pain and sorrow Handfuls of poison and money Exchange and martyr This life is hard, this life is cruel Childhood - occupied zone In this war of material I am a cog We are a wheel All we ever wanted was sanitary plumbing Straight roads and a sense of belonging To a community of interest That could reasonably call itself civilised Toeing the party line Keeping the faith There's no reason to despair We are only building upon thin air Empire-State-Building-Society Keeping the faith There's no reason to despair We are only building upon thin air Empire-State-Building-Society