until the morning headline reads "the radio is dead," until all the thoughts are gone that you planted in my head, until the world accepts us all and is blind of race, until that day well i'm sick of this place.

until that day i step outside to see the world's changed. where money's not our livelihood and our lives are re-arranged. until the world accepts us all and is blind of race, until that day well i can say i'm sick of this place.

when will we try to fight it?
'cause with no force we're undecided.
with no direction we're just a mess,
wandering blindly like all the rest.