Welcome to Quicksand Island, the home of Lower Fort Knox
Here, you are fed for helping to move ginormous gold-bricks
Here, you are clothed for flattering every briefcase, each tie
Shelter you get for punctual shift-attendance each day
Now the complacent-people, without even a clue to stand on
People who wave a magic-wand back at each solution
People who read a high-verb low-pronoun diet
Welcome you here, to live a life lost in the public-armpit
Now, and not one single nanosecond later than now
Screams of “SHUT UP ! ! !” burst from mouths, and cars collide on the go
Heart-attacks meet deadlines; every task is scheduled and due
Now, and not one single nanosecond later than now
Cradle to grave, alarm-clock to coffin, the process never does stop
Cradle to grave, alarm-clock to coffin, and every person dies cheap
You are a kludge, replaced by machines when every bone breaks
Welcome to Quicksand Island, the home of Lower Fort Knox
