In the land of the living there’s no room for little men who run around
And point there fingers all day long,
In these times of forgiving there’s no space for wicked men who run
Around and wear their silly little frowns,
Through the years we’ve been given promises have come and gone and no one
Ever keeps their word anymore,
And through the lies we’ve been swimming and we’re running out of time
To fill out ever so trusting lungs,
In the land of the living there’s no room for little men who run around
And point there fingers all day long,
In these times of forgiving there’s no space for wicked men who run
Around and wear their silly little frowns,
Oh, is it the same road, Lord no, that we are on
You can take us across the water and you can fly us across the sky,
But if you think that you’re gonna drive us you better choose a road less
Travelled,
Oh, is it the same road, Lord no, that we are on
Nothing like the friendly giant we all thought them to be, nothing loving
Hides behind sugar coated lies
Oh, is it the same road, Lord no, that we are on