I depend on (artic snow)

A pair of trainers (I've got mine)

Could make a God of the two of us (I want yours)

I exist on (apropos)

I insist on (arctic snow)

A change of clothing (will fill the void)

Could lift us into fidelity (will suck you in)

The sound keeps you hemmed to the past

The walls are coming in again

The streets grid alone from the door

You gotta spin the fucking treadle...

I rely on (bitter cold)

I depend on (arctic snow)

The manmade fibres (I've got mine)

That are the stuff of my birthright (I want yours)

I decide on (apropos)

I retreat from (arctic snow)

The dregs of discourse (will fill the void)

For a new world order (will suck you in)

The sound keeps you hemmed to the past

The walls are coming in again

The streets grid alone from the door

You gotta spin the fucking treadle...

In a pile of days between no oceans

All the kids are rioting

There's no art in a broken head

All the kids are staying fat

And I'm air-kissingback-slapping

Check the body for valuables

It's called progress

Come on pilgrim sing to the pyres

It's called progress

If they want to kill themselves

Then buy them the gowns

It's called progress

Progress