Paul Quillen - Scour the Land Lyrics

Scour the land
And raze to the ground
Whatever grows or breathes
If it interferes
Or does not adhere
To the model we conceived

Tethered in grids
And moving in lines
Dispirited and possessed
Tortured by sounds
And the dullness of towns
Built round the of purchase

And if it is a game
How far have we come
And what may I ask
Is the score
The science abounds
But the details profound
Keep making predictions
A chore

And whether master and slave
Or slave to the "I"
We're still all kinds of stuck
Yet we hold to the wheel
And make endless appeals
To the meandering spirit
Of luck

And who do we blame
And how do we cope
Complicit forceful and grim
As we push through the maze
Of our beige colored days
And try not to whither and dim