A man among others, a face in the crowd Whose feet you step on, whose name you don't know Shifting in the neverending scale of grey Silent and discreet, an empty sheet
Who pulls his straw to the corporated stack Nothing more beneath the surface Than a name, address and serial number
Slow and slow and round and round The wheels keep turning without a sound Grinding, grinding soulless stew You're sucked into a mechanical screw
Your mouth is closed, your eyes are shut You can't raise your voice "˜cause your throat's been cut Shrinking, shrinking, vanishing man You won't make the way to the promised land
You're the perfect part of a plan More from Abstrakt Algebra