Ten Thousand Lines

Yep

We paint the future from this bedroom
With lots of progress; cold and heartless
And nothing lives, just twitches and moves
It's all synthetic, but it's all we've got

Thousands of wires spread through the halls
Thousands of eyes live in our walls
Now they can see just what we've done [oh no]
Now they can see what we've become

No sun. Just radiation here. Get it by the lungful
No time. No way to count the years
Except by the creaking sounds of your bones
By the creaking sounds in your bones
By the creaking sounds in your bones
By the creaking sounds in your bones
By the creaking sounds in your bones
By the creaking sounds in your bones
By the creaking sounds