End Of Medicine

The angel cried, "You bastard!", As we analyzed the accents So look out you rock'n'rollers Over 40 million served and that's a Record for the master It stood forever after So, are we, are we, are we, are we facing The end of all, of all the drugs we're lacing With common sense and courtesy And all the things we thought would be The end of us but now it won't Allow us our intentions Are the mother of invention It's a pleasure to repeat the feeling Are we, are we, are we, are we facing The end of all the medicine we're taking? Somewhere in the system There's an open-ended list of all the Lies we tell them thinking, thinking, 'Where could we be living?' Is it life or is it even in the realm of possibility? You see it when you're missing When you came to see it glistening Even on and on and on...