It seems strange to write about these things now But the time has probably come when we should Accept whatever is past and gone and never will return Looking back to the beginning I see a flood of painful memories And the bitter hurt and wounded pride that comes with our defeat We set out with our heads held high So sure our ground, our righteousness The new Jerusalem to be built with love and guts and truth But in the end we surrendered easily It's no use pretending otherwise . . Well most of us had a little something to lose, enough to break our nerve Well, some of us made an easy peace and moved into the Brave New World; It's hard for the true believers to look back now and realise That for many of the crowd it was just the fashion, the cause of the moment Well we if anyone should know that you can look pretty dumb Standing in last year's clothes And some of us, shell-shocked still, ran for shelter and do the rituals The same old way pretending that someone out there cares And some of us live in the modern world We give unto Caesar what is due And harbour the bitterness of defeat and daydreams of revenge Now nothing you see out there is real It matters not what you believe in It matters less what you say but only what you are It matters what you are. It matters what you are