All around me are clones
Who talk on phones
Searching files
All the while
Dreaming of being at home
Watching T.V.

They all look the same
Playing their nine-to-five game
White collars and ties
Are their favorite highs
And soon they'll be at home
Watching T.V.

And in the evening, their day well done
They go home and watch the news
Beside themselves is themselves
With which they do with what they choose
We just go through life
Glued to a sonic tube
We don't condone your silly wild world
We just sit in somber mood.

And inside their heads a thought
One which they were taught
Not one that they created
But thoughts so masqueraded
As if
To actually make them believe
That they are truths
Oh, but they must be
They heard them on the news.