Turning the questions away
Day and night, night and day

Moving the furniture back and forth
North and south, south and north

Uneasy, absent and always smiling
Don’t know where the number goes that you are dialing

Hope that you reach someone enlightened
Someone who knows better than to be frightened

And the story ends just when it begins
At the very verge of confessing all our sins

But you are smart to know that there’s no right and wrong
Labourers, Atlanteans, listen to this song

Doesn’t matter what you do or think
Sooner or later everything will sink

And civilization’s wiped out again
Drowned by the ink of a writer’s pen