Fingers press the keys for interface The printer taps the words across the page We have gotten men upon the moon In this high tech finely tuned computer age
There's this vast land of resources That won't apply to rules These hearts inside of us But we've got no system for love
Satellites twist pictures home to Earth And high-rise office files store paperwork We've got the airwaves in control And wires strung pole-to-pole We've got a record of each soul from date of birth
There are temples and steeples 'Cause we've got no system More from Beth Nielsen Chapman