Drummers fill the basements like beatniks used to do
But there’s no more revolutions like it was for me and you
In the college town cafes they still dream of bigger things
Nothing much is different, the cash machine still rings
It’s for the glory of the winners
And the relics of the saints
When the pretty boy hits the stage
Someone always faints
Some go home to darkness
And hide their violent rage
And some arrive to parenthood
At a later age
A defiant soul survivor shielded by a crest
Standing at the crossroads, valedictory at best
In the sanctuaries of knowledge they’re sharpening their tools
Desperate for the wisdom wasted on fools
It’s the morality of the jackal
The priviledge of the prey
And millions dance with the stars
In the mindless field of play
The blue light still flickers
In the coldness of the room
The dying nation holds its breath
In the remains of the baby boom
But I’m just sitting here with children on my chest
Like this is all that matters
Sane and solid while it scatters
Yet feeling like a wanted guest
So I’m just sitting here lines of future on my brow
A house of cards in tempest weather
An unholy temple but we’re together
And just worry about the now
Drummers fill the basements like beatniks used to do
But there’s no more revolutions like it was for me and you.