Endless treads like waves of regret
Press the button on the lift
In fact, I think I've died about six hundred times
Jump onto the escalator
Endless treads like waves of regret
Jump off the tarmac, there's no stagecoach speed limit
Falling off this rotting ladder
Jump onto the escalator
There's less of me now and more of me then
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Your program, newspaper
Jump on to the escalator
Your program, newspaper
Press the button on the lift
Now it seems, I'm going madder
So they say
Endless treads like waves of regret
There's something in your soul that makes me feel so old
I'm moving back to the age of men
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Rumor spread by word of mouth
There's less of me now and more of me then
Now it seems, I'm going madder
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Press the button on the lift
Jump off the tarmac, there's no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office hangs the man on the gibbet
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Falling off this rotting ladder
Jump off the tarmac, there's no stagecoach speed limit
I'm moving back to the age of men
Now it seems, I'm going madder
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Rumor spread by word of mouth
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
So they say
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Outside the office, hangs the man on the gibbet
Falling through this rotting ladder
