They've got stories to tell you Do they mean to lie or mislead Well is it real or paranoia The way the words have planted their seed Fear born in subliminal fables Aching from our heads to our feet Keep it subtle or cartoon blatant Whatever drags us to our knees Well time's always ticking right down to the bell Every day becomes our last farewell When everything crumbled into dust and to sand All we have are empty hands Their visions of dark horizons Bring heavy sensational thrills Keep the fires burning brighter More fuel for the rumor mill Andersson, De Borst