Lyrics:

Their custom concern for the peopleBuild up the monuments and steeplesTo wear out our eyesI get up just about noonMy head sends a message for meto reach for my shoes then walkGotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta get a jobGoes through the parking lot fieldsDoesn't see no signs that they will yieldAnd then thought, this'll never endThis'll never end, this'll never stopMessage read on the bathroom wallSays, 'I don't feel at all like I fall.'And we're losing all touch, losing all touchBuilding a desert