They cherish the memories
Of the old landed gentry
They stood up higher
But you took a sword to their heels

You blinded the sentry
It's all so last century
They call it progress
Perhaps we should slow down too
It's too soon

It's too soon
It's too soon
Too soon
It's too soon

You can't tell the difference
They might be twin sisters
Pantomime conflict
Please ensure you toe the line

You've taken no chances
And have fewer answers
I could try prying
But you wouldn't me to
Would you?

Would you?
How could you?
Would you?
Now could you?

Question the mistress
About all these whispers
Stains on the ceiling
Show where she fell to the ground

Something seems missing
It's all in the mixing
If no-one is listening
You may as well not make a sound
Come round
I've turned round
Dumbfound
Come round
I won't be found