New Model Army. Gigabyte Wars. Zeneszám

Well, you never grow up, you just get older, carrying
all the familiar burdens with you, walking back on
the hometown streets on a night devoid of stars.
No one ever said it was going to be just, you really
ought to know by now how She's all red in tooth and claw;
after all, weren't you the one screaming for more?
In the gigabyte wars - round and round we go,
beneath the vapour trails - tangled up inside in a web of lies,
hostages of fortune and savage tales.
Well, you entered stage in blood and pain, gulped for air
and then you cried out - this is just the way it comes;
that's Stupid Questions again . . .
It's not the things that you fear that come to get you,
But all the things you don't expect, face down in a
drowning pool of unfulfilled desire, in the gigabyte wars . . .
Then comes the rain - just seems to make the night grow hotter,

we listen to the drops as they clatter on the roofs of the cars;
sometimes it seems like you're going to suffocate in this
conspiracy of noise - but though the ties they stretch to break-point,
still they hold, still they hold, and blood runs still in crimson streams
and dries like the earth - but still they hold.
In the gigabyte wars, once we were lost, then we were found;
once we were found - then we were lost again.
Get real, if a real exists - there's nothing more than this,
Strung out on nothingness . . .