| I see the Middle Kingdom between Heaven and Earth
|
| Like the Chinese call the country of their birth
|
| We all figure that our homes, our homes are set above
|
| Other people than the ones, the ones we know and love
|
| In every place with a name
|
| They play the same territorial game
|
| Hiding behind the lines
|
| Sending up warning signs
|
| The whole wide world
|
| An endless universe
|
| Yet we keep looking through
|
| The eyeglass in reverse
|
| Don’t feed the people
|
| But we feed the machines
|
| Can’t really feel
|
| What international means
|
| In different circles, we keep holding our ground
|
| Indifferent circles, we keep spinning round and round and round
|
| We see so many tribes overrun and undermined
|
| While their invaders dream of lands they’ve left behind
|
| Better people, better food, and better beer
|
| Why move around the world when Eden was so near?
|
| The bosses get talking so tough
|
| And if that wasn’t evil enough
|
| We get the drunken and passionate pride
|
| Of the citizens along for the ride
|
| The whole wide world
|
| An endless universe
|
| Yet we keep looking through
|
| The eyeglass in reverse
|
| Don’t feed the people
|
| But we feed the machines
|
| Can’t really feel
|
| What international means
|
| In different circles, we keep holding our ground
|
| Indifferent circles, we keep spinning round and round and…
|
| They shoot without shame
|
| In the name of a piece of dirt
|
| For a change of accent
|
| Or the color of your shirt
|
| Better the pride that resides
|
| In a citizen of the world
|
| Than the pride that divides
|
| When a colorful rag is unfurled
|
| The whole wide world
|
| An endless universe
|
| Yet we keep looking through
|
| The eyeglass in reverse
|
| Don’t feed the people
|
| But we feed the machines
|
| Can’t really feel
|
| What international means
|
| In different circles, we keep holding our ground
|
| Indifferent circles, we keep spinning round and round and round |