The Modern Man

If the working man has all the land and we have all the fun
Does it rain on everyone or am I dreaming
If I substitute the tried and true upon a razor’s edge
Only half what’s in my head can I believe in
Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn
For the modern man who rules the world
I walked the middle path of life before I placed my bets
Oh, just like all the rest afraid of dying
We race to make the mark before the theater goes dark
And searching for a spark we dream we’re flying
Does a sicker moon then bloom a thorn
For the modern man who rules the world
Oh, come on down you songbirds
You are only singing to yourselves
Spectators of your silence
The mythologizes to a truth
Are you are you
Are you are you
Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn
For the modern man who rules the world
Does a sicker moon than bloom a thorn
For the modern man who rules the world