Let's descend through fog and rain
And see if we can find the same way out
Of this whole mess.
It's not as if we'd lose our lives
Or be impailed by carving knives
Just yet,
No, not unless
We sign the dotted line
So everyting will turn out fine.
Let's just discard what makes us tick
And act as if we're really thick and slow
Taking a hand,
And sign the dotted line,
So everything will turn out fine.
And if it's not what it appears to be
We'll get down on our bended knees
And lick the shit of which they stand
Until it shines.
Let's go away to somewhere new
Where people havent got a clue
And bland into the crowd,
And sign the dotted line,
So everything will turn out fine.
And if it's not what it's cracked up to be
We'll sit and sip so passively.
We'll smile and nod and be well dressed
For our decline.
Writer(s): Alexander Charles Bathgate, Christopher Alexander Knox
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