Circles

We talk too much We talk in circles Till we're all spinning around Reaching for rings on this merry-go-round The scenery spins We call it progress But I've seen this all before When all is said and done, we'll wake up on floor We set sail With no fixed star in sight We drive by Braille and candlelight We're building towers With no foundations Just stacking stone on stone Whatever it takes, mix our mortar with bones True progress means Matching the world to The vision in our heads But we always change the vision instead We set sail With no fixed star in sight We drive by Braille and candlelight