LYRIC

I want a planet of my own
I'll use my schizoid children to gain control
They can see into the future
A thousand buildings going up
Tips on land I can invest in
I like my children all screwed up

Gubble, gubble, a 21st century word
(time slip)
Gubble, gubble, a 21st century word
(time slip)
In the 21st century

With a kind of x-ray vision
He sees inside skulls, inside skin
Greens turn to rotten things
A nightmare, endless decay
He sees the buildings crumble
But I don't care
I want to make money
I want to be king

A very distant planet to call home
A brood of schizoid children all my own
They can see into the future
Some people say that it's a curse
I say language is overrated
I like my children and their couple of words

Gubble, gubble, a 21st century word
(time slip)
Gubble, gubble, a 21st century word
(time slip)
In the 21st century

Tell it to me
I don't understand

Time slip in the 21st century

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