Now they come and they call
Running through the windows
Running through the halls
Till one day, it’s too late
No call at the gate
Cause they are inside your television
Inside the telephones
Creeping through the carpet that you’ve laid
In your home
And we well say
How we knew
Read the editorials in the morning news
But that don’t count for what it’s worth
Anymore
Now they come and they call
Burning down the windows
Breaking down the walls
Till one day it’s too late
There will be no call at the door
No call at the gate
Cause they are inside your television
Inside the telephones
Sitting around the table that you have laid 
In your home
And we well say
How we knew
Read the morning papers, watched the evening news
But that don’t count for what it’s worth
Anymore

How it comes, how it calls
Flooding through doorway
Flooding through floor
Till one day, it’s too late
Like the people in the desert
Living off the ground beneath their feet
There was the ground
It kept them moving onwards, kept them moving south
Till one day it’s too late
And we well say
How we knew
Read the editorials, watched all the evening news
But that don’t count for what it’s worth
Anymore