- cifra
A self-fulfilling prophecy of endless possibilty
In rolling reams across a screen
In algebra, in algebra
The fences that you cannot climb
The sentences that do not rhyme
In all that you can ever change
The one you're looking for
It gets you down
It gets you down
There's no spark
No light in the dark
It gets you down
It gets you down
You travel far
What have you found?
That there's no time
There's no time
To analyse
To think things through
To make sense
By candles in the city
They never looked so pretty
By powercuts and blackouts
Sleeping like babies
It gets you down
It gets you down
You're just playing a part
You're just playing a part
You're playing a part
Playing a part
But there's no time
There's no time
To analyse
Analyse
Analyse
