John Cale/Bob Neuwirth
Modern World
In the shadows of the night come the friends of fantasy dancing forward towardThe dawn, wrapped in coats of vanity. In the closets in the home hang the toastsOf days gone by, breaking every haunted scheme confusing thoughts with fantasy.This is the modern world, this is the modern world, this is the modern world.In the back rooms where they wait, keeping time so patiently, playing cards andCasting lots, sit the last of judgment's [all]? In their confusion to deceive,They miss the point so handily, filling every secret need. They succeed perfectly.This is the modern world, this is the modern world, this is the modern world.
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