Wasted in the West

Feed the lions in their cages This is now democracy Got to keep them isolated It’s all part of Huxley’s dream Message from the mighty palace Settled on the dirty streets Got you fighting with your neighbour Not the real enemy The money casts a spell and puts them in a trance They’d trade in everyone if given half a chance I kind of die Fed a diet of resentment Fear and animosity And you have to be content with Watching someone else’s dream And everyone is on their own now Living in a virtual world Wasted in the West