I talk of freedomyou talk of the flagI talk of revolutionyou'd much rather bragand as the decibels of this disenchanting discoursecontinue to dampen the day

the coin flips again and again, and again, and againas our sanity walks away
all this discussion though politically correct
is dead beyond destructionthough it leaves me quite erect
and as the final sunset rolls behind the earthand the clock is finally deadI'll look at you, you'll look at meand we'll cry a lotbut this will be what we saidthis will be what we said

Look where all this talking got us, baby.