Baby's scream in the nightmare throng
Your washing gets nicked when the lights go out
And stop their dreams falling through the ceiling
Should have been the worst of our fears
The dream life luxury living was a pleasant number 10 whim
God would have given them string
But the piss stench hallways and broken down lifts
If people were made to live in boxes
But somewhere down the line of production
The house in the country designs the 14th floor
And the public school boy computers
Old Mrs. Smith don't get out much more
It was going to be pie in the sky
They left out human beings
Say the planners dream went wrong
To tie around their selves at bed time
They were gonna build communities
Coitus interrupts 'cause of next doors rows
Keep spewing out our future
