The Worst of Progress… Songtext
von Magazine

I was out probing the weaknesses in society
When I finally got all of my fat little fingers burned
And worst of all, and warts and all
None of it was worth whatever I learned

I was intent upon my progress
Howling life was hanging on the telephone
Why are the colours on the map always running?
If it′s really the truth, well, it isn't your own

(Oh-oh-oh) reach for the beautiful day
(Oh-oh-oh) reach for the far-off shore
(Oh-oh-oh) for one day you′ll reach no more
(Oh-oh-oh)


I get absolutely no pleasure from singing this song
And hell, hell hath no fury when you laugh
Please, don't interrupt me with dumb readings
From your cosmic origins spectrograph

Listen now, I have a prediction
You won't be looking long into the gloom
And it won′t be going on forever
And we won′t be going to the moon
(But up we go)

(Oh-oh-oh) reach for the beautiful day
(Oh-oh-oh) reach for the far off-shore
(Oh-oh-oh) for one day you'll reach no more
(Oh-oh-oh)