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These are not dispassionate words of the cool
The headline still rules the editor
Shall we douse out the flames or will everybody fuse
And leave us stranded here tomorrow
I heard a calling out, a cry from the heart
From the towns of cement and the beauty
A whisper its turned howl, man he didn
He was standing waiting for tomorrow

Nothing

I could never figure the calendars flow
Nor can i work out how the wild, wild wind blows
But we
Away from the place of no tomorrow

Nothing
Nothing

Oh the wrecking fields are a terrible place
With a sulphurous smell and a frightening pace
And the hook goes early and the critic is king
It

There
While shylock is smiling we
If we surrender ourself to industrial rules
We
Now

Nothing
Nothing

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Translations of Common Ground lyrics:

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