I talk of freedom, you talk of the flag
I talk of revolution, you’d much rather brag
And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse continue to dampen the day
The coin flips again and again and again and again as our sanity walks away
All this discussion, though politically correct is dead beyond destruction, though it leaves me quite erect
And as the final sunset rolls behind the Earth and the clock is finally dead
I’ll look at you, you’ll look at me and we’ll cry a lot but this will be what we say
This will be what we say
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Talk on
I warned you, I prepared you
I instructed you, I told you what to expect
All the time been feeding, what have you got?
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
Look where all this talking got us, baby
You yourself know? The service?
That the day shall come, shall come, shall come, shall come, shall come