Sorcerer

He's a sorcerer, he's a sorcerer

He's a sorcerer, he's a sorcerer

Before your eyes

Cast a spell

Out of control

Miraculous and magical

His world is also demonic

Terrifying, swinging wildly

Out of control

Menacing, destroying

Blindly as it moves

They repress both wonder

And dread at what they've made

He's a bourgeois sorcerer, he's a bourgeois sorcerer

He's a bourgeois sorcerer, hе's a bourgeois sorcerer

In a million factoriеs

Department stores and mills and banks

Dark powers walk in broad daylight

Social forces driven in dreadful directions

Whole populations conjured out of the ground

Oooh! the abyss is close to home

Oooh! the abyss is close to home

Oooh! the abyss is close to home

Oooh! the abyss is close to home

There's an angel standing here at the end of this song

His eyes are staring, his mouth is open

His wings are spread, his face is turned

Toward the past, sees what was learned

Where we perceive a chain of events

He sees one single catastrophe

Which keeps piling wreckage up on wreckage

Hurling it in front of his feet

This angel here would like to stay

And awaken up the dead

And make whole what has been smashed apart

But a storm is blowing from paradise

The storm propels him

In to the future to which his back is turned

While the pile of debris before him grows skyward

The storm is what we call progress

Oooh! the abyss is close to come

Oooh! the abyss is close to come

Oooh! the abyss is close to come

Oooh! the abyss is close to come