I've seen faces in the window   I've seen faces in the street   They walk and talk of nothing   I've known many restless summers      The sand dunes I imagine   A place without a postcard   Flower people were so beautiful   But straight and loud's the way      Good luck the beatnik spirit   The talk of politicians   The sentences of cynics   Are the sentences of childhood      They're all talking shit to me   Out-talked by the mass media to pay the bills it lies   And the lies we eat for breakfast   Brave faces face the boardroom      The oak stained walls fall silent   They leave lined with defeat   And they got those tears in their eyes   Well, it makes no sense to me      Why don't they understand? We're so ordinary too   I saw the exits closing now   Pain and passion's my point of view   Well there's nothing like the truth      I've seen men that have been marked out   Ruled out by grim assassins   They fell hard on instant replay   And I'm never going there      Well, the place I see so much better   'Cos it makes no sense to me   I saw the exits closing now   Burning mountains, burning paper   Burning all around and later