Human League - Almost Medieval Lyrics
Theres something in your soul that makes me feel so oldIn fact I think Ive died about six hundred timesTheres less of me now and more of me thenIm moving back to the age of menJump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limitOutside the office hangs the man on the gibbetSoft lenses, grow to glassesSmall world, dimly seen through cataractsYour program, newspaperSo they sayRumour spread by word of mouth, jump onto the escalatorPress the button on the lift, raise the dust on old stair carpetsEndless treads like waves of regretNow it seems Im going madderFalling off this rotting ladderSoft lenses, grow to glassesSmall world, dimly seen through cataractsJump onto the escalatorPress the button on the liftRaise the dust on old stair carpetsEndless treads like waves of regretNow it seems Im going madderFalling off this rotting ladderYour program, newspaperSo they sayRumour spread by word of mouthJump onto the escalatorPress the button on the liftRaise the dust on old stair carpetsEndless treads like waves of regretNow it seems Im going madderFalling through this rotting ladderTheres something in your soul that makes me feel so oldIn fact I think Ive died about six hundred timesTheres less of me now and more of me thenIm moving back to the age of menJump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limitOutside the office hangs the man on the gibbetJump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limitOutside the office swings the man on the gibbet
