It comes at night, you know
The idiot sleeps and the idiot talks to the ether
To the cold night air
"This can't be right," he groans
"Bakunin's child, can I be both wild and defeated?
What a cross to bear."
These poor ghosts they can't be all alone
Sat in the dark with one hand on the phone
And as the television spills the truth
He thinks, "my God! I've been wrong all these years -
Here's the proof:
Idiot talk, idiot talk, idiot talk
Tell me what you want...
It happened more each day
Slowly turning into dust
Said the idiot, "I must be a dreamer,"
Looking into the sky
Where machines form an orderly queue
Slowing down to take in all the views
And as the idiot looks then the idiot sees
"so many eyes staring right back at me!"
We poor ghosts we can't be all alone