The flower grew the wall

Displaying all of his colour

The motive wasn't clear

But you wouldn't understand



Now we're getting on like fire

With matchsticks in our eyes

And the money men are here

With yes men to their sides



The audience approves

With a movement of clothing

But they never even see

The nature of this illusion



Now we're getting on like fire

Let's burn it to the ground

And the warning, it came so clear

But I couldn't see the signs



There's a plate in my head

There's a chip in my head