Twenty years on, and he still thinks he’ll make a dent on the shrinking world…but the pent-up way it works still stinks,
The spinning of wheels has been enough to keep him occupied, keep him tough…but there’s no momentum, just the gravel and the spinning,
And those who could help him disappear, saying, “Wish we could, but we’d interfere”…after all, they have their own careers.
Hey, look up, look down, look out somehow,
Look through the blindfold,
Shake your fist and bet your soul,
You’re in the way and the big wheels roll,
Big wheels roll, big wheels roll.
Oh, no one gets on a leaky ship,
“Associations can weaken one’s place in history,” he tells himself,
And he tells himself that they’re lame and weak, but he only has himself to blame for being scatterbrained, quarantined,
How can one fool one’s self so long? How can one hold the dream so tight?
He chokes it and provokes a wrong.
Hey, look up, look down, look out somehow,
Look through the blindfold,
Shake your fist and bet your soul,
You’re in the way and the big wheels go,
Hey.
He says, “Damn the cool-headed and the setters of goals who can feel no evil, no heat, no cold, who wouldn’t know passion if it swallowed them whole,
For whom true love is a left-brain risk, for whom the giving of life is a needless myth, who cover their graves with monoliths,”
Cool heads prevail, and we’ll become extinct,
Mutants too unfit to wish – that’s the fallout of our fingerprints.
Hey, look up, look down, look out somehow,
Look through the blindfold,
Shake your fist and bet your soul,
You’re in the way and the big wheels roll,
Big.
Look up, look down, look out somehow,
Look through the blindfold,
Shake your fist and bet your soul,
You’re in the way and the big wheels roll
Hey.
