Dealing with a morning bureaucrazy
Long lines of cars and calls
Isn't the way it should be
Is unacceptable
A hypocrisy bureaucracy
And music on hold
And bland corporate voices
Man as machine
Is the inevitable result of the industrial age
To turn man into industry
An industry unto himself

I would rather be in the meadows
Looking for stones in the meadows
Me, in the shadows in the meadows
Sheep in the shadows in the meadows
The cloud shadows sailing the meadows like galleons
Shadows sailing the grasses like galleons
Shadows pushing through the meadows on the plains
Shadows pulling through the steppes
Shadows poling through the steppes
Galloping through the meadows

Did they ever stop to think
That that hateful voice interrupting my music on hold
Is actually making me even madder?
I'm trying to listen to El Condor Pasa!