Oh how fortunate we are,
 Strange creatures in this strangest time!
 The Noble Primitives by choice
 Seen from the outside with no regard
 Disappointment in those watchful eyes
 Shaking heads of the dim-lived lives
 Such is their fear of breaking free
 Keep our [bad word] under lock and key

 All this will Change
 All this will wash away the sins of the [bad word] Age
 Don't be afraid
 We are the Underground
 Their world is what they've made

 They've shattered us for generations
 Bullied conformity - the spider over the flame
 Enough to tear our hearts to splinters
 Force the choice but don't dare ask why
 Close your eyes and let the laws dictate
 By God or by Man: mass-manipulate
 But to us, the Barbarians of Idealism,
 Life holds its throat at bay 

 All this will Change
 All this will wash away the sins of this Dying Age
 Don't be afraid
 We are the Underground
 Their [bad word] is what they've made

 We are the Underground
 We are the Underground

 And now we'll watch their fortress [bad word]  The flaming pyres have fettered out,
 Relics of gavel and cross - no more!
 We've born our smiles but silently waged war
 We are the Savages, the [bad word] civilized
 Let those called "sane" now lose their minds
 For we know who we are and can change at will
 Our minds and our hearts will dream what we dare

 All this will Change
 All this will wash away and we will build again
 Don't be afraid
 We are the Underground
 Our world is what we make