she stares at the screen at the little words of green,

tries to remember, what to do next. there s a trace of frustration, that

crosses her face, searching for the key she should press and I would

help her, if I only know how.

But these things are a mystery to me too and it seems that thecorporate eyes they are watching.

she fears for her job and the moments are passing, I stare at her nametag

and think to myself, both you and I, we never asked for any of this...



So let s take a walk up past the chemical works, where the sky turns greenat night and we ll talk about.

Getting away from here some different kind of life. but even in the freshest

mountain air, the jet fighters practise overhead and they re drilling these

hills for uranium deposits and they ll bury the waste for our children to inherit.

And though this is all done for our own benefit, I swear,we never asked for any of this.

this golden age of communication means that everyone talks the same time.

and liberty just means some freedom to exploit, any weakness that you can find. Well turn of the TV just for a while, let us whisper to each other instead

and we ll hope that the corporate ears do not listen.



lest we find ourselves committing, some kind of treason and filed in the

tapes without rhyme, without reason.

while they tell us that it s all for our own protection,

I swear, we never asked for any of this.....