We wade out into it, Dawn of the century. 
We're way out, we raise up our arms and wave them in disbelief. 
And like brothers we march each other right off, torches lit on the shore. 
Midway between the forks in the long face of constant war. 

There's a [bad word] to us all
And there's [bad word] from the opposite shore
It's above us. I can feel [bad word] 
We wait out each other, drawn through the centuries
We're here now
We raise up our arms and wave them in disbelief
We're drawing in tight the tiny circles of space 
in the constant effort to erase 
The constant war on your face

(Despite our deceit) Hidden away, still we breathe.

There's a [bad word] to us all.